The Iron Man Project
by NoobFish
Summary: A Ron is only as good as the suit he wears. A KP/Iron Man Fusion.
1. Chapter 1

**Foreword**

OMG Another KP/IM Fusion! squeals like a rabid fangirl!

cough straightens shirt Untrue to my style, I decided to add a foreword. Mainly because I know that Classic Cowboy has a similar KP/IM story out there. So first, I'd politely request that everyone give me a chance with this. I hope my story will be different enough from what Classic Cowboy has planned out and from the movie itself, since with this fic I haven't been influenced by what he has so far. Except the beginning. But it will be different!

With that said, I repeat myself and request humbly: give this story a chance, and I hope you find it enjoyable.

* * *

Monique growled in frustration as she arrived outside the Stoppable beach home. Her employer was running late, and his liaison to both Global Justice and the United States Military was more than a little tweaked, calling her and demanding updates every five minutes as to his current whereabouts. As Monique was unable to find him anywhere in his office, it was her responsibility as his personal assistant and unofficial handler to hunt him down and give him the tongue lashing he deserved.

She unlocked the front door and let herself into the grand mansion that neatly perched on the edge of a cliff overlooking the Bay Area. The view, with its own private beach and dozens of acres inland, was breathtaking, but she'd long since gotten used to the scenery presented by the literal wall of windows the house offered. After all, she'd been here dozens of times in the prior month alone. Unfortunately, her responsibilities involved her too deeply in his personal life, and she had become more than accustomed to finding her employer deeply engrossed in his workshop at home while there were papers to be signed and important meetings to be held. Ron Stoppable, despite, or perhaps in spite, of his past was an important man. Distracted, but important.

He had been a late bloomer, living most of his life coasting lazily until a year after graduating from community college. A switch had been thrown in him, and his drive for success had no equal. Finally tapping into his potential, he obtained his PhD. in mechanical engineering and applied physics within two years, a feat that would have been impressive enough, if not for the six patents registered with the World Intellectual Property Office by that time.

Thus his early fortune was already made. But even before his graduation, he had set up a company called Stoppable Enterprises along with co-founder, Dr. Wade Load, a personal friend with a long history, and a PhD. in computer science and integrative technology. Together, they delved into the lucrative market of weapons manufacturing, coming a long way from Ron's past experience with his potato-tosser-cum-plasma-catapult during his brief stint as a would-be world conqueror.

Their company grew quickly, offering superior weapons program that quickly dwarfed the competition. Due to this rapid growth, they had added a third brain to the budding company. It had come as a surprise when Dr. Drew Lipsky was hired as Head of Research and Engineering, a very senior post that only reported directly to Dr. Wade Load, the CEO of Stoppable Enterprises.

Ron Stoppable had only remarked that it was ironic that Dr. Lipsky's weapons which were once used to terrorize the world would now be used to save the world.

Within five years, Stoppable Enterprises had leapfrogged to the forefront of its competition, as it displayed a creative tenacity in designing newer and more efficient weapons. It was named as the upcoming company to watch by Fortune magazine, and its stock had triple in prices every year ever since its inception. The Stoppable trademark had become known effective and superior weapons, and soldiers regularly remarked that holding a Stoppable in their hands would prove that they are anything but stoppable.

However, that particular Stoppable was currently missing in action and about to miss a very important weapons demonstration in Afghanistan in a few hours. Monique glanced around the grand house, wondering which bedroom her employer is currently sleeping in. Three storeys high, twenty different rooms, sported on the rocky outcrop of a cliff overlooking the bay, it offered an ocean view with a none-too-humbling price tag of one hundred and eight million dollars. It had only cost Ron last year's bumper dividends only. Spying a trail of loosely strewn clothes, a tense smile crept to her face as she followed the evidence.

"Excuse me, Mr. Stoppable," she called out loudly as she barged into the bedroom, seemingly without regard for his privacy. "I would like to remind you that you are late for your eight o'clock meeting."

"Just five more minutes," Ron called tiredly from under the silken sheets of his oversized bed.

Pursing her lips, Monique could clearly make out more than one figure underneath the sheets. "Let's go, Ron," she sighed tersely. "Kim's waiting."

At the mention of her name, Ron rolled out of bed with a grumpy look on his face, "What does she want?"

"She wants you to meet her at eight o'clock at your private airfield," Monique replied evenly. "You have a demonstration for Global Justice in Afghanistan later this afternoon, and you're already behind schedule."

"Let her wait," Ron waved his hand dismissively, as he scrambled into a pair of boxers. "Besides, we have time. What time is it?"

Coolly ignoring her naked employer putting on his clothes, she glanced at her watch, "It's ten fifteen."

"Oh, we still have forty five more minutes," Ron yawned, as he walked towards the bathroom.

Shaking her head, Monique strode over to the sleeping figure and shook her shoulder roughly. "Excuse me, miss, but you're going to have to leave now. Mr. Stoppable is on a tight schedule."

"Whu-…" A disheveled looking red-head with smeared make-up glanced dazedly at the woman bearing down on her. Pulling her sheets tightly around her to hide her nudity, she blushed as deeply as the color of her hair, as she spoke, "Oh, you must be the Monique Potts that I've heard so much about… Personal aide to Ron Stoppable… Why don't you go back to picking up Ron's dry cleaning or take out the trash or whatever it is you do and let me go to sleep?"

Monique bit the inside of her lower lip as she glared at the woman. "Miss, I will have a taxi for you outside in fifteen minutes, and I suggest you better not miss it. You are no different than half the floozies who happen to waltz into Mr. Stoppable's underpants, and if you think you're any different, rest assured, I've seen better bodies and better personalities than yours in strip clubs."

"Why you… I'll have you know that I'm the Fiona Rogers, and I have modeled for…" the woman started her tirade before it was cut short by a deadly glare from Monique.

"I'll have you know that I don't care, and while it's not my job to take out the trash," Monique replied sweetly. "I _do _enjoy taking out the trash."

The red-head wilted under Monique's baleful eye, as she scurried out of bed and grabbed her scattered clothing. Satisfied that the woman had disappeared out of earshot, she turned her attention back to her employer and looked crossly at him as he stepped out of the bathroom.

"Don't give me that look, Monique," Ron warned her. "I don't pay you to interfere with my personal life."

"Actually, Ron," Monique replied stiffly. "That's exactly what you've _paid_ me to do for _years_. After all, it's your personal life that needs the most reorganizing."

"Leave me alone, Monique," Ron groaned, as he slipped on a plain white t-shirt. "I'm headed down to the workshop."

"Ron, you're already more than two hours late for your meeting with Kim," Monique reminded her employer again.

"She can wait," Ron replied nonchalantly.

"Ron, stop playing these games! Why do you keep doing these things to her?" Monique suddenly asked. "Making her wait for you, intentionally tweaking her as much as possible and bringing home red-headed floozies to have countless one night stands."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Ron stiffened up, as he replied. "It's just how I live. It has nothing to do with her."

"Then why are you so stubborn around her?" Monique asked pointedly. "You can't hide it from me. You've been trying to make her life difficult ever since I started working for you."

Ron just grunted in annoyance as he walked down a circular staircase to his workshop. "I'm not," he replied defensively.

"Are you still in love with her?" Monique replied, following closely behind her employer.

"Of course not!" Ron shot back quickly. Too quickly.

A small predatory smile crept to her face as Monique smelled a chink in his armor. "Oh really? Then have you ever noticed that you have a tendency to have one night stands with red-heads?"

"I do _not_!" Ron denied, as he turned his attention to his workbench, pressing a few buttons on the side panel. He sat down on his computer chair and began clicking away with his mouse.

"Last night it was Fiona, the night before Amanda, the night before that Melanie…" Monique pointed out. "Three for three red-heads, I might add."

"Who's Fiona?" Ron asked genuinely, as he perused the blueprints on his computer. He tapped a few keys lazily and played around with the 3D function of the model on his computer.

"She's the red-head currently washing up upstairs," Monique reminded him. "Face it; you're still stuck on her."

"What about Bonnie?" Ron pointed out. "She's not a red-head."

"Yeah, but you slept with her knowing that it would tweak Kim off the most," Monique answered. "Face it, Ron, you're still hung up on Kim, and it sure would make my life a lot easier if you would settle the issues between the two of you."

"I'm not the one with issues," Ron growled, annoyed at the direction his personal assistant was treading.

"Then why did you have to sleep with Kim's cousin, Joss, and then rub it in her face the very next day?" Monique replied. "That sounds like you're full of issues."

"Hey, she started it!" Ron replied quickly. "She rubbed it in my face with Dan, her latest pretty boy toy."

"Dan was her boyfriend for the last six months," Monique groaned, as she recalled the day when Ron found out about Dan. He had been more than angry, choosing to disappear for a few days, leaving his work behind, and coming back drunk with half a dozen floozies on each arm.

"Yeah, well, see? Isn't Dan like her eighth boyfriend this year or something?" Ron replied hotly. "Who does she think she is to comment on who I sleep with?"

"Dan is only her second boyfriend in four years," Monique sighed loudly. "You know Kim, her job as commander of Global Justice has her running around the world more than ever before. With the expanding of Global Justice's role to fight terrorism, Kim's been as busy as ever. I'm just glad that she can find time for dating."

"If she can find time for dating, Global Justice isn't giving her enough work…" Ron sneered, as he slammed down hard on his keyboard. Getting up from his chair, he strode upstairs. "I'm in no mood for this. What's next on my schedule?"

"Right," Monique smiled wryly. "You have an eight o'clock meeting at your private airfield."

"Fine," Ron growled, as he went upstairs to slip into his business suit.

* * *

"Hey, Ron," Kim, dressed in her official navy blue Global Justice suit, greeted her long-time best friend and once ex-boyfriend on the tarmac in front of the waiting private jet stiffly. "What took you so long?"

"I overslept," Ron shrugged nonchalantly. "C'mon, let's get this show on the road. Where's the champagne?" He purposely strode past Kim and jogged up the steps, ducking inside the plane as if he was right on time.

Kim sighed as she watched the antics of her friend. Turning her attention back to Ron's constant shadow and personal assistant, she said, "Thanks for getting him, Monique."

"It's no big, Kim," Monique smiled at her friend. "You know how it is with Ron. I still don't know how you can be so patient with him."

"Another one?" Kim asked off-handedly as she cast a glance towards the jet.

Monique just nodded. "Someday, I'd just like to knock some sense into that boy of ours," Monique sighed tiredly.

"Hey, hey," Kim laughed uneasily. "He's worth a lot to Global Justice right now."

"But that doesn't give him the right to do anything he wants," Monique replied. "Well, I won't hold you back any more; seems like Ron has kept you waiting enough. Just have him back here by tomorrow morning, he has a luncheon with his board of directors."

"Sure, Monique," Kim nodded. "I'll have him back in one piece."

"At least rough him up a little," Monique smiled.

They both shared a laugh over their mutual friend. "We should go out sometime. I do miss hanging out with you," Kim commented. "It's just that so many things have been happening…"

"I know, I know," Monique interrupted her. "You're very busy… Global Justice has you running around, playing babysitter to Mr. Big Shot over there. Funny thing is, Ron seems to have so much time on his hands."

"It's because he has a very capable personal assistant working for him to sort out his life," Kim replied with a smile.

"It's tough work," Monique sighed. "Any chance you might want to hire a personal assistant for your life instead?"

"Monique!" Kim laughed. "I can't afford you! Global Justice doesn't pay me enough for my work."

"Too bad then," Monique shrugged. "I guess I'll have to put up with Ron for just a little longer."

"Should I tell him that you're looking for another employer?" Kim asked with a glint in her eye.

"Nah," Monique smiled conspiratorially. "He'll never survive without me. How do you think I convinced him to give me that Christmas bonus?"

"Monique, Monique, Monique," Kim grinned. "At least he treats you well."

"I wish I could say the same for you…" Monique replied, when suddenly someone yelled out from behind them.

"Hey!" Ron stuck his head out of the plane. "There's only two bottles of champagne in here! Monique! I need you to run down to the store and get me a whole case!"

"Right," Monique humored her employer as she yelled back. With a wink, she looked at her friend and said, "Well, Kim, he's your problem now!"

"Right," Kim groaned. "I better go before he gets any other ideas into that head of his."

"See you later then," Monique waved to her friend.

Kim smiled and nodded as she walked away towards the plane, and climbed the steps into the cabin. As she stepped in, she saw Ron happily sitting on one of the wide leather seats with a bubbly blonde hair stewardess on his lap. With one of his hands holding a full champagne flute, and the other on the lower back of the stewardess, exploring lower and lower…

"Ron…" Kim said sternly, as she glared at the stewardess on his lap.

With a little squeak, the stewardess jumped to her feet and smoothed her uniform before giving Kim a curt nod and hurrying to the aft of the plane.

"Aww… Kim…" Ron groaned. "Did you have to spoil my fun?"

"Ron, we're here to show the military in Afghanistan what your latest invention can do," Kim replied seriously.

"But it's a ten-hour flight!" Ron let out another groan.

"Hey, would you rather spend ten hours catching up with your best friend, or in the plane's wash closet with…?" Kim tilted her head towards the aft of the plane.

"Hmm…" Ron pretended to think for a moment. "Tough choice… Could you please repeat that?"

"Hey!" Kim smacked Ron on the arm as she sat down next to him. "You know, I didn't have to come with you. You wanted me to go with you."

"Right, right," Ron grinned cheekily. "Besides, I figured I might do you a favor and steal you away from GJ for a minute. After all, what's more fun than baby-sitting a VIP into a war zone?"

"I could think of half a dozen other things," Kim rolled her eyes as she replied. "You know I didn't have to come. But I realized that we haven't spent as much time together as I would like to."

"Yeah, me too," Ron replied, before turning quickly away, realizing what he had just let slip.

A small grin crept onto her face as she watched her long-time best friend morph from egocentric, self-obsessed billionaire playboy into a shy and supportive boy she had always known through her childhood. "So tell me…" Kim began. "What's new in your life?"

"Well, I'm currently working on…" Ron began rattling on, espousing his latest inventions and plans. Much to his delight, his best friend and one-time girlfriend nodded her head as she listened with rapt attention to his stories.

As the plane taxied on the runway and took off, the two friends were talking again like they always had.

* * *

Ron peered through his sunglasses at the faces of all the army generals looking anxiously at him. Casting his eyes to the side, he noticed that Kim gave him a reassuring smile. Oh well, now it was his time to shine…

"Lady," he nodded towards Kim. "And gentlemen… Some people would have you believe that the best weapon is one that you'll never have to fire." Pausing for full dramatic effect, he smiled at the unemotional faces of those looking at him. "I respectfully disagree. I believe that the best weapon is one that you'll only have to fire once. That's how America's done it so far, and it's worked out perfectly fine. Unfortunately, there's always going to be that one force, that one group that's so entrenched, so hard to get to, that we find we need a better weapon... With that said, I present to you: the Unstoppable!"

He raised the remote control in his right hand and thumbed the huge red button on it. With a smile on his face, he watched as the surface missile platform fired a single five-meter long, sleek and deadly looking missile. Cruising rapidly to a cruising height of eight hundred feet, the onboard sensors quickly calculated and cross-referenced the painted target area below with its onboard map of the target area. Adjusting for wind speed and varying height of ground terrain, it poured on speed towards the target area roughly one half mile away while locking onto its multiple targets quickly and blew the side panels from itself.

Cages holding the payload of twenty missiles began to spin, spitting the smaller, shorter range, but far faster and more agile missiles out in different directions. The smaller missiles briefly communicated with the main missile's targeting computer to confirm their targets and sped away on small, intense bursts of energy from the repulsor engines that took place of normal rocket engines. Far smaller than traditional rocket engines, they gave a far greater power to weight ratio in a package over seventy percent smaller than was possible with a traditional chemical engine. This allowed not only targeting and maneuvering systems to be built in while lowering the weight and allowing the missile to carry a heavier payload than was normal. The deadly missiles, having confirmed their targets, homed in on with deadly accuracy at over two miles per second.

With his back turned towards the weapons testing area, Ron smiled as the generals looked on in awe at the sight of twenty independent missiles looking for, acquiring, and homing in on their targets, both stationary and moving. Explosions rocked the ground as thermobaric warheads exploded, devastating the target area with both the initial explosion and the vacuum left behind. He raised his arms like a messiah, as the rolling clouds of smoke and dust billowed up behind him, before the shockwave of the 

blast swept past them. Ron grinned as an especially short and rotund general lost his hat as it was quickly swept away in the dust cloud.

A loud wave of applause was heard, as the winds died down. Bowing politely, he spoke up, "And there you have it, the Unstoppable. Order now, for a modest price of five million a missile, and you'll get a bulk discount if you order fifty or more. And I also do give referral discounts…"

The generals were quick to shake his hand and offer congratulations on a successful demonstration, as well as promises of orders to come. After a few obligatory handshakes, he strode towards Kim, and smiled at her. "How do you like it?" Ron asked.

"That was… Impressive…" Kim complimented him.

"Only the latest from Stoppable Enterprises," Ron nodded nonchalantly. "Now if you would excuse me, I must be heading back…"

"Wait," Kim held him back for a moment. "I still have a few things to take care of. I need to talk to some Global Justice operatives in the area."

"Shah… Kim…" Ron tilted his head as he looked at her. "I'm a busy man, you know. I got a schedule to keep. Look, tell you what, I'll go on ahead myself and then we'll meet up some other time, okay?"

"I don't know, Ron," Kim looked at him with mild concern. "I'm responsible for your safety and I'm supposed to get you back to America in one piece."

"It's alright. I appreciate your concern but I don't need it," Ron dismissed her worries with an airy wave of his hand. "Besides, I got these boys to take care of me. America's finest." He waved over to a couple of soldiers standing by a convoy of Humvees. "Look, I'll meet you up back home, alright?"

"Right," Kim grudgingly agreed. "Take care. It's rough out here."

"Ah, I'll be fine," Ron grinned. "The Ron Factor never fails."

"Uh huh," Kim couldn't quite explain the ominous feeling in her stomach while watching the back of her best friend as he walked towards the Humvees. She hoped that this wouldn't be the last time she would ever see him again.

* * *

"So what's the deal here?" Ron asked the somber soldier sitting next to him in the Humvee that's part of a convoy cruising down a dirt path back to the military airfield. "C'mon, cheer up guys. It's like someone died in here. What's your name soldier?"

"Private Ryans, sir!" the soldier saluted, as he spoke nervously.

"Hey, to your superiors, you may be Private Ryans," Ron spoke easily. "But I'm not your superior. I'm simply the guy who makes your weapons. So I'm Ron, and you are?"

"Jimmy, sir!" the solder saluted again, much to Ron's chagrin.

"Mr. Stoppable… Forgive Jimmy there, half the soldiers here have bunched up their panties since they heard you were coming," the lieutenant in front turned around to look at him. "Hi, my name's Grace and it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, Grace," Ron smiled as he accepted her handshake. "See? That's what I'm talking about, Jimmy. It's not nice to be all so uptight. Besides, if you don't tell, I won't either."

"Sir, can I ask you a question?" Jimmy asked as he raised his hand.

"Sure, why not?" Ron replied. "And you don't need to raise your hand."

"Is it true that you're twelve for twelve with the Maxim girls last year?" Jimmy asked curiously.

"Yes and no," Ron grinned at the question. "Miss March and I had a scheduling conflict, but fortunately the Christmas cover was twins."

"Awesome!" Jimmy exclaimed, as Grace rolled her eyes and muttered something. "Hey, so can I ask you another question?" Jimmy asked.

"You already did," Ron nodded his head.

"Could you autograph my rifle for me?" Jimmy asked excitedly. "It's one of yours…"

"Yes, I recognized that immediately. The M-21A low-recoil assault rifle," Ron smiled as he snagged the marker the soldier was holding out. Taking the weapon in his hand, he signed across the barrel in large letters. "Tell you what Jimmy, send me a postcard, and I'll have my guys ship over to you the XM-21 model. Same ammo, but a few tweaks to improve accuracy, and should do so without hurting reliability. And I'll even autograph that one for you too."

"Awesome Mr. Stoppable!" Jimmy smiled with glee. "If it's not too much to ask, can I also take a picture with you?"

"Sure, why not?" Ron grinned, as Jimmy fumbled in his side pocket and handed a digital camera to Grace who was watching her junior in amusement.

"One, two…" Grace counted as she gingerly held the camera up. Before she could say three, a large explosion rocked the Humvee, the vehicle in front of them exploding in a ball of flame and shrapnel.

"RPGs!" the driver roared, as he braked hard.

"Stay inside, Mr. Stoppable!" Grace ordered, as she grabbed her rifle. "Private Ryans! Protect Mr. Stoppable at all costs!"

"Hey, hey!" Ron yelled as the driver leaped out of the vehicle, only to be peppered with a hail of bullets. With his body slumped against the side of the vehicle, he jerked once, twice as more rounds ripped into his body, shredding his internal organs to pieces.

"John! No!" Grace yelled as she ducked behind the front of the truck and tried to return fire. As she peered up from behind her cover, there was a sound of hail of bullets hitting the side of the car, as one ricocheted of the hood and pierced her forehead. She slumped down immediately, with her eyes still wide open in surprise.

Private Jimmy Ryans watched as his two friends fell in a matter of seconds. Turning to Ron, he yelled, "Mr. Stoppable! Stay in here!"

"Wait, what am I…" Ron protested, but it was too late, Private Ryans had already joined the firefight outside.

Ron ducked as bullets rained outside and punctured holes in the side of the Humvee. Deciding that it was too risky to stay inside any longer, he threw open the door and leaped out, crawling his way behind a large rock by the road. As the firefight grew worse, Ron crouched there, having never been more afraid in his life. He reached for his cell phone and was about to call for help when suddenly he heard the tell-tale whistle of a rocket-propelled grenade heading towards him.

"What the…" Ron gasped as the projectile landed with a dull thud besides him. Thinking for a moment that he was saved by a dud, he glanced at it again, at the oddly familiar shaped weapon. His eyes shot wide opened as he recognized the Stoppable Enterprises logo stamped along its side. The AP151-RPG, anti-personnel rocket, designed to detonate five seconds after impact, releasing a deadly shower of shrapnel as its fragile metal casing was burst off and the dozens of shaped, 'designer' shrapnel as Wade had called it burst forth into the target.

"Oh sh-…" Ron screamed before he felt his entire body showered in a firestorm of slivered steel needles. As his nerves screamed in pain, overloading his brain with bursting electrical impulses, and darkness covered his eyes with a shroud darker than any lair he'd been in, he couldn't help but feel a strangely unwelcomed sense of satisfaction that Kim may lose her job because of what had happened to him...

* * *

**Author's Notes**

Yeah, I figured Ron would be a jackass, much like the Tony Stark in the comic books: definitely a player - with a penchant for one night stands - and quite the drunkard. I guess it's not that hard to imagine him as Tony Stark, after all, he's a natural at inventing weaponry. He did do a plasma catapult and some weird device on a vacuum cleaner that spins while shooting lasers randomly in some episodes. Maybe it's just because he has a penchant for destruction, things seem to fall apart around him, including his pants.

Funny thing here is Ron's doing everything he can to annoy the Hell out of Kim, and she kinda lets most of the things he does slide. It's a funny dynamic, I figure Ron's pining for her attention and doing everything he can to get it, ever since she broke up with him. From the whole double PhD. thing all the way to his own multibillion dollar enterprise, it does seem like a bid to get her attention. And since that didn't work in getting the both of them back together, I guess Ron's moving on to eliciting some sort of reaction from Kim in the least, either jealousy or anger, by his apparent disregard for her.

I take Kim's reaction here as purely… How would you say it? I guess she's more than used to it and she knows she shouldn't care about his actions. Well, she does care to an extent. She does get a little bit jealous, especially if it happens in front of her. Thing is, this has been going on for quite a while, definitely, and I think they've both developed these strange behaviors just to cope with being around each other.

But so far, the premise has been set, and there will be back story and more questions answered later.

And no flashbacks, I promise.


	2. Chapter 2

Ron coughed hard twice, each violent movement causing sharp pain to surge up his spine and to grip his head like a vice. Several gray shadows hovered over him, animatedly waving their hands, shouting at each other in rapid-fire words that sounded more gibberish than foreign to him. A low guttural groan escaped his lips which called the attention of the gray shadows back to the semi-conscious man. As he tried to turn his head, a large black object hovered over his face and pressed hard over his nose and mouth.

He raised his hand weakly and pawed at the dirty rag pressed against his face, but it was futile. His lungs finally gave in and screamed for oxygen and he inhaled the sickly-sweet fumes emanating from the rag. He was struck by a wavering vertigo; a downward spiraling plunge into nothingness as his mind tried to grasp desperately to consciousness. But even that was futile.

* * *

"Water…" Ron croaked out before his eyes even had time to adjust to his dark surroundings. He was vaguely aware of lying on a hard metallic surface, far unlike his usual comfortable accommodations.

"Here," a nasal-sounding voice with a heavy German accent offered, holding a flimsy beat-up tin container to his lips.

Ron slowly sipped at the precious cool liquid flowing down his parched throat. His tongue continued to lick his lips, desperately searching for the last few drops remaining there long after the container was withdrawn. "More…" he croaked hoarsely, as he turned his head to look at his benefactor.

"Later," the voice replied bluntly. "But first you need to sit up. How do you feel?"

"What…" As Ron struggled to prop himself up on his arms, he felt an unnatural pain shoot through his chest. Gasping in pain, he slumped back against his sheet metal bed and groaned in pain. His hands felt slowly around his chest, and to his horror, his fingertips touched a smooth metallic ring about six inches in diameter embedded in his sternum.

His silent scream reverberated in his head, as he could only make small coughing sounds as his parched throat refused to work.

"Calm down…" the voice replied, as the man finally stepped into view and placed a hand on Ron's shoulder. "You were quite a piece of work when they brought you in. Quite the irony, I must say, for you. Never have been on the receiving end of one of your own weapons, have you Stoppable?"

"Who…" Ron coughed as each word hurt his throat, squinting his eyes at the speaker.

"I'm surprised…" the man smiled strangely. "You don't remember me… But there will be time for introductions later; first you must get to your feet."

"What did you…?" Ron gestured with his hand at the device embedded in his chest to complete his sentence.

"A simple electromagnet," the man explained bluntly. "Your own invention was quite well nicknamed the 'slow iron death'. Very common in the villages I've seen. Hundreds of pieces of steel shrapnel punctured your body, and this isn't exactly an operating theatre." The man looked around at the dark 

cave they were in. "The operation to remove every last bit of little piece of metal in your body would probably kill you. So I did the most convenient thing, put an electromagnet inside you to pull the shrapnel away from your heart. With any luck, you should be able to avoid a heart attack and live long enough."

"Live long enough?" Ron coughed, as he managed to prop himself up. Sitting upright, he discovered that the new attachment to his torso weighed heavily, and he found it hard to breath. But that could also be due to the intense pain that his entire chest seemed to be radiating. "What is this?" Ron pointed at two wires leading out from the cavity on his chest to a car battery.

"Your power supply," the man replied without a hint of emotion in his face. "Without it, you will die… Painfully." The man picked up the car battery and shoved it into his hands. "You had better keep it close by."

Holding the heavy car battery in his arms, he balked at the realization that his life depended on such a flimsy piece of technology. Turning to his benefactor, he asked, "What do you want from me?"

"It's not what I want from you…" the man spoke mysteriously. As if on cue, a loud banging sound echoed from a huge iron double door behind him. "It's what _he_ wants from you."

"Who…" Before Ron had time to speak, his benefactor had already moved beside him to face the door, and raised his hands behind his head.

"Quick!" the man hissed. "Follow my lead. Hands behind your head…"

Ron had tentatively raised his hands behind his head, wincing in pain as he raised his hands above chest level. Before he could speak, the doors were thrown back and half a dozen men stormed in, bearing AK-47s, half of them aimed at the two men. They yelled rapidly in a foreign tongue, forcing the two men to their knees.

Too weak to protest, Ron let them shove him around, gritting against the pain they caused as they jabbed his tender chest. He glared up angrily at a man who had spat at him and aimed his rifle right between his eyes. Gritting his teeth he weighed his options as he wondered if he could beat the hell out of this guy and tear his rifle from his hands.

Just as the man screamed incomprehensible verbal abuse at his face and raised the butt of his rifle to strike, a sharp command ordered the man to stand down. The man looked hesitantly at the source of the voice before backing down slowly. A short round man with a heavy beard around his face stepped forward, dressed in dirty green combat fatigues. With a generous smile, he spread his hands wide open and started speaking quickly in a language that Ron didn't understand.

"He says that it is a pleasure to meet you, Ron Stoppable, merchant of death," Ron's benefactor offered to translate from behind Ron. "He introduces himself as Raza."

"Tell him to make an appointment with my secretary next time," Ron growled as he glared at Raza. The man just laughed at Ron's spirit and replied lightly.

"He's saying that it's good to see that you are in good spirits," the man translated. "You must be well enough to work."

"Work?" Ron growled. "What work?"

The leader of the armed men laughed as he barked a few commands to the men around him. They roughly yanked him to his feet and shoved him out of the door. Ron barely had time to pick up his car battery before a rifle muzzle poked him in between his shoulder blades. Stumbling on his feet, he took in his surroundings carefully. They were leading him through a maze of tunnels, and Ron specifically took the time to remember the direction they were heading. After a good fifteen minutes of walk, he was finally greeted by a bright light at the end of the tunnel.

Stopping to squint at the intensity of sunlight blasting his dark-accustomed eyes, Ron received another hard jab in the back with the muzzle of a rifle. Ron growled at the treatment, but otherwise kept his cool as he stepped outside and took a look at his new surroundings. His face instantly darkened at the sight before him.

There were crates and crates stacked up high against the mouth of the cave, hidden under brown tents camouflaged against the sandstone walls. And there were men, dozens of men, milling around or lifting and moving those crates. Ron almost stumbled as he passed by one of these soldiers, a boy that looked barely over ten who was gripping an AK-47 almost as tall as him, watching the men carrying the boxes around. While anyone would have cringed at the use of child soldiers, Ron's heart was filled with dread as his eyes glazed over an open box sitting next to the boy.

_My weapons!_ He realized in shock, his mind reeling at the sight before him, _But... How?_

Despite his company's very stringent policy of selling his latest weapons to only certified and authorized buyers, right before his eyes were new shipments of his latest RPGs, rifles, and even targeting lasers. Turning back to face his captors with a look of outrage on his face, Ron shouted as loud as he could, "How did you get all this?"

Raza laughed out loud at Ron's reaction, and remarked coolly in English, as he rubbed his fingers together, "Money!"

Ron felt an intense anger surge up inside him as he glowered at the man. Raza spoke quickly as he gestured at all the crates before him.

Ron's benefactor was pushed forward beside Ron, and stooped his head lower a little and spoke, "He wants you to make him your latest weapon: the Unstoppable."

"No!" Ron yelled out loudly as he could, as his eyes opened wide. "Never!"

Raza did not flinch from his outburst, and instead coolly turned to his men and gestured to one of them. He stepped forward quickly and raised his weapon and struck Ron across the face with the butt of his rifle. The jarring shock split open his cheek and almost cracked his jawbone as Ron fell to the sandy ground, almost letting the car battery slip through his grasp as the connected wires tugged painfully at his skin.

Spitting aside blood from his mouth, Ron growled defiantly at the leader, and shouted, "Never!"

Raza stepped forward, and shoved his face into Ron's bruised features. In crude English he spoke. "If you're not afraid I will kill you, then…" he pulled out a Beretta from his side-holster, and cocked the hammer. At first aiming at Ron's gritting face, he turned and aimed the barrel at Ron's benefactor who flinched away from the sidearm pointed at him. "I will kill him."

Ron glared at Raza with an intense hatred before looking at the terrified man before him. Knowing in his heart what he must do, Ron's head drooped to his chest as he shut his eyes tight. "I'd do it…" Ron whispered.

"Fine!" Raza laughed as he slapped Ron twice firmly on the back. "Everything you need is right here!" He turned to order his followers with a few words, before he strode off laughing.

Ron could only glare at the man's back with a renewed burning hatred as he grasped the crumbling sand in his hands. He knew, without a doubt, that he was now caught between a rock and a very, very hard place.

* * *

"You still don't recognize me, do you?" the man asked, as Ron slumped down against the wall back in the cave where he woke up in. The captors had thrown them back into the dungeon, after being satisfied that they had found a way to get what they want. "I am grateful that you have spared my life, but perhaps if you did recognize me, you would not have."

"Should I recognize you?" Ron asked wryly, as he took in deep breaths to get use to the foreign object in his chest.

"Perhaps you might recognize me better with my mask on," the man said replied with much bemusement. "After all, you and your friend, Kim Possible used to thwart me back in the day."

"You?" Ron squinted hard at the figure of the man, trying to picture all of the masked villains he and Kim had fought. "Professor Dementor?"

"Used to be," the man nodded with a wide smile at the younger man. "But now, I am just Hans Demenz, from Bavaria."

"What happened to you?" Ron asked in surprise.

"Seven years ago, I came to this forsaken hellhole," Demenz spoke evenly. "Offering my services to a potential partner to take over the world… It would seem that in these parts, a man is only as good as the gun which he carries… Not the mind that he possesses. Since then I have been forced to work for these madmen…"

Ron let out a little laugh, "The irony, you used to be one of these madmen yourself."

Demenz joined Ron in his laugh. "Not these kind of madmen. At least I had a dream of building a better world. These men… They only dream of destruction… Bringing down the west and those they see as infidels…"

"They would think that they are justified too," Ron replied darkly. "But it's good to see a familiar face in these parts, even though it _is_ yours."

"Aye…" Demenz nodded with agreement. "I've long given up hope of escaping. Each day spent underground making these weapons… One could not hope to get past all these men, and even if we do… Only the desert awaits. So what news do you bring from the outside? I have watched your meteoric rise from teen hero to merchant of death." Demenz snorted in irony at a realization, "I never thought _you_, of all people, would have it in you to contribute to this madness."

"I'll have you know that my weapons have brought peace to many regions around the world," Ron replied quickly, feeling the anger surge to his face.

"Save your words for the press," Demenz replied dismissively. "It's not like anyone can hear or believe your lies down here."

"Who are you to criticize me for that? You have done your fair share of trying to destroy the world yourself." Ron shot back angrily.

"All the more am I qualified to criticize, then, when I meet a fellow world-destroyer?" Demenz shrugged, as he picked up a container of water. "If you let your work speak for yourself, you have killed far more men, women and children than I, Gemini, Drakken or Shego have put together. Congratulations, Ron Stoppable, you have more than undone all the hero work you did in your teen years."

"I had good intentions," Ron insisted, gritting his teeth at the new source of pain that he was feeling.

"So did we," Demenz shook his head as he took a drink. "So did we."

The two men sat quietly in the room, glaring angrily at each other. Ron was grinding his teeth in anger, and he could taste the coppery tang of blood in his mouth, as his eyes welled up with tears. The darkness of the room had never seemed more enveloping.

"So what now, Ron Stoppable?" Demenz spoke up finally. "Do you intend to build your weapon for these madmen? Or do you intend to sacrifice me for what's left of your morals? It's only blood on your hands… God knows you have enough already…"

"I'll do what I do best," Ron spoke unwaveringly as he stared off at the pile of scrap metal in the room. "I shall, as our... Host... Has asked of me, build something..."

"You surprise me, Ron Stoppable," Demenz spoke dismissively. "I had thought…"

"No, not for them, not for them..." Ron spoke grimly, a smirk that would have done the aforementioned Shego proud spreading across his face. "For me."

* * *

**Author's Notes**

I guess I should apologize for my erratic lengths. I just posted a 10k word chapter, and now I'm doing one under 3k. So yeah. But I suppose there is something to be said about its brevity. But I'll keep this short and move on.

So this is just a breather before the action picks up again.

And yes, there is this ongoing debate between a pacemaker and electromagnet. I'm inclined to think that it was an electromagnet, because pacemakers sort of conjure up this image of really old people with arrhythmia, while electromagnet is an unconventional medical treatment. Also, pacemakers don't quite remove the problem of having millions of tiny little slivers of metal in his body. I think the electromagnet would hold things in place, and yeah, it's a short term fix to a long term problem. Plus Wikipedia is with me and says it's a magnetic chest piece that Tony Stark wears under his suit. But then again, that's another debate altogether.


	3. Chapter 3

"Are you sure this will work?" Hans Demenz, aka Professor Dementor, asked Ron as the latter hunched over a small annular device made out of high grade semiconductor. He peered curiously at the little gadget and marveled at the precise intricacies that Ron had somehow managed to fashion with the crude tools and furnace in their dark dessert prison.

Ron soldered the final wires and components into place, sitting back slowly to examine his work. Satisfied, he plugged the device into what looked like a thirty-year-old, fraying extension cord that led from the generator deep inside the caves. Ignoring Demenz's words, Ron took a deep breath before throwing the switch. He watched as the device slowly started to hum, the crude lighting around them flickering twice before dying altogether.

And just as all power had been drained from everywhere else in the cave network, the strange little device started to glow an eerie pale blue color. Ron pulled the extention cord from the device, and within a few seconds the generator kicked back in, once again bathing the room in the dim light of the old incandescent bulbs. The only difference was that the device stayed lit, despite being disconnected from its power source.

"What is it?" Demenz asked curiously.

"An arc reactor…" Ron explained with pride. "One of my very first patents, made completely without any basis in Lorwardian technology, and eight times more efficient than anything they had. This small one here is roughly capable of generating eight thousand gigawatt hours of power." He turned to look at the clunky car battery sitting on the workshop table next to him. "Hello, battery, meet your replacement."

"That…" Demenz spoke in amazement. "Will be able to power your electromagnet for fifty lifetimes!"

"Or…" Ron grinned. "Something really big and power hungry for fifteen minutes or more... Depending on op-tempo, of course."

Demenz cocked an eyebrow with curiosity. "What do you have in mind?" he asked.

"Here, help me replace this first," Ron said. "Then I'll tell you my plan."

Demenz shrugged as he picked up the device in his hand and marveled at the amazing piece of technology he held. "So this is what the genius of Ron Stoppable is capable of."

"Enough gawking, start fixing," Ron said snappily, as he lay back on the table. "We don't have time; they are expecting us to build a weapon for them."

"Right," Demenz gingerly unplugged the car battery, and watched as Ron's face instantly contorted up with pain. Clearly, the little metallic slivers of death had started to move again in his body. Quickly, he connected the last two wires, before carefully lowering the entire arc reactor into Ron's chest. With a final twist of the device, it clicked into place, and Demenz stood back for a moment to watch in awe.

Ron was wheezing heavily from the pain as he glanced down at the bright glow coming out of his chest. "Whew…" he said bitterly. "I'm never doing that again!"

"So what's the plan?" Demenz asked.

"We are going to build…" Ron sat up, ignoring the screams of his nerves. He reached over to a stack of papers and handed them to Demenz. "This."

"What is this?" Demenz asked, as he struggled to understand the blueprints.

"This is our ticket out of here," Ron grinned cryptically, flattening out the papers on an artist's light table, nodding as the confusion left Demenz's face, being replaced by an appreciative, grim smirk. "Let's get to work."

* * *

As Ron slaved over the raging hot furnace, hammering the heavy steel chest-piece into shape, Demenz was busy tapping away at the computer, running through lines and lines of code. Tired and hungry after working non-stop for twenty six hours, Demenz finally leaned back and looked at Ron.

"So, Stoppable," Demenz asked. "I heard you asked Dr. Drakken to work for you."

"He insists that we call him Drew now," Ron replied without turning to look at him. He picked up the chest-piece and tempered it in a trough of oil before plunging it back into the forge.

"I do miss the old villain days," Demenz smiled to himself. "Those glory days when we were someone."

"Drew is working as Head of Research and Engineering, overseeing our weapons division," Ron replied with a hint of amusement in his voice. "He's earning a very comfortable seven-digit salary, and he's a hard worker, and _always_ gets a nice bonus, not to mention standard company benefits. He's definitely more of a someone now than he ever was. People have been acknowledging his genius since he started working with us."

"I just never expected Drakken to sell-out," Demenz mused thoughtfully. "It's just that… What happened to his dreams of taking over the world?"

"Adrena Lynn and their three year old, Alexandra…" Ron grinned at the thought of his employee's fiancé and their cute little bundle of energy. "You have to be crazy to want to marry that woman in the first place. But he seems to enjoy spending time with her and well, taking over the world doesn't really leave much time for the family."

"I always thought he had a thing for his sidekick, Shego," Demenz laughed at the thought of a domesticated Drakken.

"Nah, I haven't heard from Shego since… Ever…" Ron suddenly stopped his work and looked up. "It's like she disappeared off the face of the world. I guess it's all good for her. She doesn't appear in the news anymore, so I take it she quit the villain gig. She's probably retiring to some tropical island out there somewhere."

"Ah… Well Drakken was always the fool," Demenz smirked. "He could have easily taken over the world with that woman. She was really something. Pity she never left him to work for me."

"At least he's good at inventing stuff," Ron shrugged. "That's what I pay him for."

"So he really has given up the whole 'take over the world' business?" Demenz asked.

"I sure hope so," Ron narrowed his eyes. "Why do you ask?"

"No need for concern, Stoppable, it's just… Sometimes, you know, you start to long for the old days again," Demenz spoke as though his thoughts were far away. "Sometimes you just want to relive those days again."

"I know what you mean," Ron shook his head, as he picked up the large chest-piece with his tongs to check it's temperature, before throwing it back into the fire. "Things were so simple back then, Kim and I running around saving the world… No GJ business, or thinking about the future…"

"Whatever happened to you and that red-head?" Demenz asked with a bemused smile on his face. "It came as a shock to most of us when you hooked up. Last I heard, you two were no longer together."

"Yeah, well… That was her fault," Ron replied bitterly as he worked the bellows, watching as the flames licked hungrily at the metal.

"What happened?" Demenz probed curiously.

"It was straight out of college, you know," Ron began with a sigh. "She got an offer for Global Justice, and I didn't. And it's not like I didn't want to work at Global Justice with her. I did, I applied for the job, went for all the tests and jumped through all those hoops for her. All they did was pat me on the back and say that I didn't try hard enough, even though I had decent and passable scores..."

"Global Justice rejected you?" Demenz's eyes opened up in surprise. "But you were the sidekick of _the_ Kim Possible!"

"Yeah!" Ron raised his voice. "I told them that! And they said that's why they expected a lot more from me! They said it was my psychological profile that lost it for me… They said I wasn't motivated enough…" Ron chuckled mirthlessly, "If it was anyone else, they'd let them in with my scores… But hell if they cared… I mean, what does it matter, right? I passed and that should be enough for them…"

"Well, were you motivated?" Demenz asked.

"I did what they asked," Ron replied bitterly. "That's all I needed to do, right?"

"So that's why you broke up?" Demenz asked, as he watched his curious companion.

"After that, I sort of got the feeling that Kim didn't want to be with me anymore," Ron grumbled below his voice, as he yanked the chest-piece out of the flames. He swung his hammer down on the piece of metal so hard that a shower of sparks flew up and settled on his skin. Unfazed by the heat, he continued, "I mean, fine, I failed to get in as a Global Justice agent. So what? I could get a job as part of their support staff, you know, accountant, supervisor, janitor, whatever… But no… She didn't like that at all…"

"Why would you want to be a janitor?" Demenz asked.

"Just to be with her!" Ron yelled as he swung his hammer viciously downward. "Didn't she get it? I'd have done anything just to be with her, but I guess that wasn't good enough for her. She wants someone capable, someone with a future, someone golden…"

"Did she say that?"

"No!" Ron half-yelled in annoyance. "But I could tell, it was in her words and her body language that day... She didn't want us to be together! She was breaking up the team, just like... Well, I wasn't the only one worried that the team was breaking up, but that's neither here nor their... While she went and did her Global Justice thing, she wanted me to try for a job with the military, and come back a year later for the next recruiting season! One whole year, that's how long we were going to be apart, and there was no guarantee that the military would have let me try out for GJ! That's as good of a break-up as I hear."

"So what did you do?"

"Nothing?" Ron replied sullenly. "We were living happily an apartment together, while she was training as a Global Justice agent. That's when she decided to break up with me. Break up. In her exact words, 'If you don't go out there and do something with your life, Ron, then it's over between us.' Guess she finally decided to trade up."

"Trade up?" Demenz inquired about the lingo.

"Yeah, six months later, I saw her going out on a date with this new pretty boy-agent from Global Justice. They were having a candlelight dinner at one of the ritziest restaurants in Middleton." Ron blinked hard a few times at the memory.

"Six months, and I'd already started to get my act together... I mean, I was already in grad school, but..." he paused, thinking back on the time period in a brooding silence.

"But?" Demenz asked leadingly, startling Ron out of his reverie.

"But nothing…" His face hardened into an emotionless mask, "She said she'd give me a chance, that I, quote, 'needed time to clear my head', unquote. If I picked myself up in a year, and managed to get into GJ during the next recruitment drive, or at least found something that I could do that didn't rely on her... Then, she said, we'd pick back up where we left of..."

"She said that as she walked out?" Demenz asked, his confusion evident on his face. "That doesn't sound like a breakup to me."

"I know! I thought I could count on what she said..." Ron paused, second guessing what he was going to say. "I guess... I guess I should've expected it, but, Kim, y'know, she always, _always_ kept her promises..." Ron glanced at Demenz to see if the older man was following.

"So I've heard..." Demenz said neutrally, nodding for Ron to continue.

"But not this one!" He slammed the hammer down with all his might, showering himself and his work area with more sparks, before shoving the chest piece back into the forge. "I thought she'd stick to her words, at least over something this important…"

"What did she do?" Demenz asked curiously.

Ron bit his lip as he stared at the flames licking over the piece of metal in the forge, "I wouldn't have known… I shouldn't have known… If it wasn't for Wade, I'd still have looked like a fool…"

"Go on," Demenz urged him on with a patient tone.

"He showed me something he came across on a security video," Ron said bitterly, clenching the tongs in his hands a little harder. "I felt like such a fool for believing her that she'd get back with me if I got into GJ… Barely six months later! I swear, I was already doing so much better! I was back in grad school, struggling with one hell of a course load, and you know what she was doing? Seeing someone else behind my back! If she'd have been honest, I could have at least understood... But no, she didn't even bother with a phone call! Went right ahead with what she wanted and to Hell with everyone else around her."

"Maybe she was just going out with a friend?" Demenz offered helpfully.

"God dammit!" Ron shouted out loud as he slammed his hammer on the chest piece, letting a loud, ringing clang echo through the dim-lit cavern. "I know a romantic date when I see one! And it was one hell of a romantic date that had one hell of a happy ending. All caught on camera… Right there in the club…"

"So, this footage, it was..." Demenz held a hand up, waving it around in an uncertain manner, "How would you say… Explicit?"

"I've seen hardcore porn that's less explicit," Ron muttered, dropping the chest plate into the oil trough to fully cool before clenching his hands tightly around the hammer and tongs. "And the worst thing was, it probably wasn't any good for her... I mean, at least cowboys ride for eight seconds, but not her golden boy-toy!" Despite the stress he was feeling, he allowed an almost good humored laugh at his joke about the situation he had witnessed. "But still, I can't believe she did that, not after giving me a promise like that... She promised me a year… but it only took her six months to trade up!"

Demenz pursed his lips together as he thought for a moment. "Did you give her a chance to explain, that maybe it was someone else?"

"I know it was her!" Ron raised his voice. "She was my girlfriend for five years, we were partners in Team Possible for over seven years, and best friends for fifteen! I've seen every scar and mark on her body, there's no way I'd mistake her for someone else! I…" Ron set his tools down and took another deep breath as he tried to calm the swell of emotions threatening to explode inside him.

"Anyway, I'm not going to be anyone's sidekick or fool anymore. Why should I give her a chance to explain herself? So that she can accuse me of spying on her and turn this whole thing back around on me? Besides, I know what she did, and there's no way in Hell I'm letting her make a fool of me twice!" He shook his head and slammed the palm of his hand on the workbench, sending small parts and scraps of steel skittering about. "I'm not stupid enough to beg her to take me back and pretend that nothing happened!"

"Fair enough," Demenz replied, standing and placing an understanding hand on Ron's shoulder. Ron relaxed a bit, sighing as he gazed at the older man. "So what happened after that?"

Ron shrugged and turned around, reaching for an arm piece and tossing it into the forge. Demenz backed off again, allowing the younger man room to work. "Well, that's when I decided to show her what she threw away," Ron continued, "I doubled, then tripled my course load, got my double PhDs, set up Stoppable Enterprises, built a multibillion dollar empire and..." he glanced around the room with a sigh that turned into a rueful laugh. "I got kidnapped by terrorists and forced to build weapons for them."

"So where is Kim now?" Demenz asked. "Do you still keep in touch with her?"

"Sometimes," Ron replied grudgingly.

"I'm sure she knows that you're a rich and successful man now," Demenz commented. "So why aren't you two back together?"

"I never asked her to come back to me," Ron growled. "Not after that..."

"But you sound like you still miss her," Demenz said. "After all, you became all of this for her."

"She's got a new boyfriend now," Ron replied sadly. "Some guy named Dan or the like… She doesn't need me."

"Ah… Someday she will realize her mistake…" Demenz offered. "Then maybe she will come back to you."

"Yeah right," Ron snorted, as he threw the chest-piece back into the fire. "Enough with the talking, we still got more work to do."

Demenz turned back to the computer monitor and scrutinized the code, but just before he could get absorbed into his work, he cast a glance at the tense back of his younger companion. A sad smile crept to his face as he thought to himself. _Maybe there's more than enough reason to try to escape this hellhole..._

* * *

"And… We're done!" Ron proudly declared as he held up the final piece of the puzzle: a thick iron mask with two slits for eyeholes. Barely a month had passed since they started, and now they had it: a full, working suit. Ron stood back proudly as he looked at the entire ensemble.

"And not a second too soon," Demenz warned him. "Raza has been getting antsy that we haven't shown him any signs of progress. Those computer codes that you show him do little to justify our lack of progress in the physical example department."

"No matter," Ron replied with a wide grin. "Because in twenty minutes, we are busting out of here."

"I hope you're right," Demenz replied nervously.

"Right, help me suit up," Ron spoke, as he began by sliding on a pair of thick leather gloves. "Strap me in real tight, because this is going to be a bumpy ride."

Demenz raised an eyebrow as he got to work securing the pieces of armor around the younger man. "I hope you don't mind me saying, Ronald Stoppable, but it has been an honor working with you."

"Likewise, Hans," Ron nodded his head. "If you're in need of a job, you'll find yourself more than welcome at Stoppable Enterprises. It's not like we're lacking the room for another mad genius." Ron flashed a winning, heartfelt grin to the older man helping him strap into the crude, but effective looking powered armor.

"I would think that Drakken and I have not gotten over our differences yet," Demenz smiled, as he strapped down the boots. "But I do appreciate the offer."

"Are you sure?" Ron asked. "I've seen your work; we could always use a man with your talents."

"It's alright…" Demenz shrugged. "After being captured in a cave and forced to make weapons for the past seven years, I'm quite certain I have developed other desires than to make even more weapons."

"I understand," Ron replied reassuringly. "But that's not what I have in mind anymore. We do have other divisions if you're ever looking for work, presuming you don't have other plans."

"I think I will go back home," Demenz smiled. "It's time to retire… This whole 'take over the world' business? It's a different environment now. No place for old timers like me. The rules have changed."

"Ah…" Ron nodded in agreement. "The rules definitely have changed." Just as he was going to slip on the iron mask, he heard loud shouting as a group of people were trooping down the hall towards them. "Oh crap," Ron cursed. "They're coming. Quick! Start the download!"

"Okay," Demenz hurried over to the computer console and punched in the final few command lines and hit the return key. The screen flickered and a pop-up box with a progress bar opened up. "This is going to take a while."

"Hurry!" Ron hissed urgently. "Rig the door! It'll buy us some time."

Demenz scrambled over to the huge iron double doors, and looped a long cord of wire loosely around its handles, before plugging it into a complicated-looking box sitting in front of the door. "I'm not sure how much time this is going to buy us," Demenz breathed as he ran behind Ron's armor for cover.

Ron glanced anxiously at the progress bar; it had only ticked past the 20 percent mark, creeping its way upwards ever so slowly; too slowly. "Hans!" he hissed. "It's not fast enough!"

"Wait, I'll…" before Demenz could finish the rest of his words, the sound of footsteps echoed just outside the door. As the guards threw back the large doors, a loud, roaring explosion rocked the entire cavern. The shockwave and the heat washed right past Ron, and he flinched away despite the suit's 

protection. As dust and rubble tumbled down from the cave roof, the progress bar had only ticked past 33 percent.

Coughing wildly though the choking dust, Ron blinked his eyes, groaning in frustration as he realized he couldn't move the suit on his own. He felt his heart thumping wildly as he realized that his final trump card had just been played. The explosion would only delay them for a little longer, and would bring the entire network of terrorists in the cave down upon the both of them, more than ready with their happy trigger fingers.

"Too soon!" Ron grumbled as he strained against the hulking ton and a half of metal that encased him. It took too long to activate the suit. If only…

"I'll buy us some time!" Demenz hissed, as he ran out from behind his hiding place.

"Hans! No!" Ron shouted back. "Stick to the plan! It will finish in time."

Demenz ran over and picked up one of the rifles that the guards had dropped. "Ron, you and I both know that it will not. I will buy us more time," he spoke with conviction in his voice.

"No, Hans!" Ron's loud protest fell on dead ears as he watched the man run out of the room holding the rifle in his hands. "Hans!"

Ron shut his eyes, as he focused on hearing Demenz yelling at the top of his lungs and running wildly down the tunnel. With every brief burst of gunfire, Ron feared the worst, only to have his heart relieved again to hear Demenz's war-cry continue unabated. He turned his attention to the progress bar that had just crept by 77 percent.

With a heavy heart, he hung his head, never feeling more helpless in his life. The lights flickered twice around him and died. Darkness had never seemed more encroaching. The sporadic bursts of gunfire became more and more distant before silence enveloped the room with its cold, clammy hand. The only thing that provided him comfort was the soft glow of the computer monitor as it displayed how much more time was needed.

84 percent

Suddenly he heard voices. Men shouting as their footsteps thundered closer. The shouting was getting louder as they approached. He knew exactly what they were looking for.

89 percent.

Ron cursed silently as the shouting suddenly died down. A startlingly loud crunch of gravel grated to his right, and Ron was swept with panic. They were already in here with him.

95 percent.

Time had never passed so slowly for Ron, as he spied the glint of metal out of the corner of his eye.

100 percent.

The suit suddenly hummed to life as its systems started to kick in. Before anyone could react to the source of the noise, Ron lashed out with his right hand, backhanding the man nearest to him. He took two huge strides forward before striking out at the next man who was even more surprised to see a hulking iron behemoth bear down on him as quickly as an NFL linebacker.

Ron easily swatted the men in his path away like little gnats as he charged out of the door. Each step he took was like a gigantic hammer pounding the ground. The last remaining conscious man immediately ran howling down the tunnel, screaming as though a demon was chasing after him. Ron felt a manic smile creeping onto his face as he felt something new envelope him, something that he hadn't felt in the prior three months he had been stuck underground in the cave: hope.

Hope that he might just be able to make it out alive.

He quickly navigated his way through the maze of tunnels, surprised to see that there was so little resistance to him. As he got closer to that bright exit, and his eyes adjusted to the sunlight, he finally realized why. Demenz's body had slumped against sacks of grain stacked on the left wall of the cave, his assault rifle just slipping out of his grasp as Ron approached, his gaze turned up to the sky. "Hans!" Ron called, kneeling as Demenz turned his grimacing face slowly to address the blond.

"Ron..." Professor Hans Demenz muttered, gazing at what was once a thorn in his side, and now... Something entirely different. "It is good to know you will get out of here..." he held up a finger as Ron opened his mouth to say something, "You must hurry... Don't let them catch you again..."

"C'mon," Ron said, reaching out towards the older man, "I'm getting you out of here, too!"

"It is much too late for me, Ron..." Demenz said, his grimace of pain descending into a resigned, almost serene smile. "Although, after thinking about it... I think I should like to have worked with you... Again..." Demenz closed his eyes and took a few last, shallow breaths before he lay still.

A surge of sadness surged through Ron, followed by a white hot anger. He cursed angrily at the world as he turned away from Demenz's corpse and stepped outside. Two dozen men, all holding their assault rifles up and aiming straight at him with their safeties off barred him from his freedom. Another feeling he hadn't felt for over nine years welled up inside of him upon seeing his weapons being used to bar his path.

He only had a brief moment to take the tactical situation in, his emotions enhancing his awareness instead of detracting from it. He barely staggered as he was slammed by a wave of bullets, and he cursed the men that had fired at him. The armor held, as the high speed projectiles only served to dent and scratch the external casing. Ron smiled grimly as he muttered to no one, "Now it's my turn."

He lifted his arms and thumbed the triggers in his hands, causing two tiny gas nozzles sprouting from his forearms. Gouts of flames spewed forth almost fifteen meters, making it seem as if he were wielding two whips of fire. He lashed out at the group, scattering some and engulfing others with his flames.

After removing the immediate danger, he turned his attention to the huge crates stamped with the Stoppable Enterprise logo stacked around him. Without hesitation, he bathed his own creations in flames, and felt a strange satisfaction as a raging inferno was stoked over the weapons cache. It was a 

fitting funeral pyre for a man whom he had gotten to know so well, and who he owed his life to. Bidding a silent prayer to Demenz, he turned his flamethrowers towards a few men firing from the periphery of the storage area with deadly efficiency, before concluding it was time to make his escape.

He'd never tested the jet-propulsion system in his boots before in the confines of the cave. But after ascertaining that the theory was sound and that he had done everything possible to make them work, he finally had a chance to test it. Praying that they wouldn't explode along with his legs, he closed his eyes as he activated his jet boots.

He was instantly propelled into the sky, rising above the smoky remains of the weapons cache, finally free at last. He let out a loud whoop of joy as he cast his eyes skywards, angling his flight away from the site of the explosion. The suit climbed higher and higher, and he was sure he was over eight hundred feet above the ground. However, his excitement was short lived, as the rockets spluttered once, then twice before burning out on him.

_Uh, oh!_ He thought to himself as gravity took over, and he began hurtling towards Earth at a dizzying speed. As the ground loomed up in his view, he gave one final scream, instinctually twisting himself to land on his back before the bone-jarring impact slammed into him like a freight-train. Sand sprayed wildly about as he collided into a huge sand dune, the course, granular materiel cushioning his fall slightly.

Ron laid there for a good five minutes, panting hard as he slowly tested his limbs to find that he was mostly unhurt. He slowly peeled the remains of the armor off of him, thankful that it has disintegrated upon his unceremonious landing, lessening the impact further than the sand already had.

Staggering to his feet, he turned his attention to the sea of sand before him. With the hot sun shining down on his back and the dry, dust-swept wind blowing across his sweat-drenched face, Ron held his head up high and breathed.

Freedom has never smelled this beautiful.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

Yeah, hmm… I'm back online faster than I expected. Okay, this chapter gives a little backstory into the whole Kim/Ron thing which I guess has had people asking "Why did they break up?" Though, it must be noted that this is from Ron's point of view, and I bet he has a more than biased perspective on the whole thing. But yes, this is the end of the whole terrorist part, and Ron returns to civilization, with bitter memories, a ghost of a friend and perhaps a new outlook on life.

Mostly descriptive, but I hope the fighting scene was up to snuff because there'll be way more of that later. C'mon, this will be an action/adventure fic after all, no?


	4. Chapter 4

As the rear ramp of the US Army C-17 transport lowered, everyone watched anxiously as a sole figure strode nonchalantly forth. He was dressed in the latest Gucci suit, black-pinned-striped, and sporting a pair of Rayban sunglasses. His beard had been neatly trimmed and save for the right arm in a bright blue sling, no one could be certain that he had been kidnapped and held captive by a group of terrorists for the past three months.

His reception committee was definitely of the colorful sort. Friends and questionable acquaintances stood with worried looks on their faces as he stood in front of them sporting a wide grin on his face. With a nod to each of them, he greeted them.

"Kim, Monique, Wade, Drew," Ron flashed a million-dollar smile at each of them as though as he had just came back from a vacation. "Nice to see you guys."

"Ron," Kim was the first to speak in a wavering voice, as the others were still momentarily stunned with amazement. "You're alive…" She took a tentative step forward, wanting to hold him to reassure herself that he was real.

"We'll talk later, Kim," Ron curtly nodded at her as he brushed past her. "Wade," he turned to his partner of Stoppable Enterprises. "Right now I want two things; a Naco and a press conference."

"Are you sure, Ron?" Wade spoke in surprise. "Shouldn't you be…"

"I'm fine, Wade," Ron replied dismissively. "Thanks for watching the company for me while I was gone, but I think the paperwork has piled up high enough."

"I have been managing your company during your three-month absence," Wade pointed out. "I think it will survive a little longer without you."

"Mr. Stoppable," Drew 'Drakken' Lipsky spoke up. "There's no need for you to hurry, the company's perfectly fine under the care of Mr. Load and myself. You should take your time to recuperate fully and…"

"Never mind," Ron interrupted impatiently as he waved off his business partners. "You know what, Wade? Just call the press conference. I'll get the Naco on the way. C'mon Monique, chop, chop, let's go, ride's waiting." He gestured with his finger, and walked towards the silver Bentley waiting for him. Without a glance back, he opened the door with his good hand and slid inside the vehicle.

With an annoyed scowl on her face, his personal assistant muttered something under her breath as she followed her boss into the car. With a glare on her face, Monique began her silent treatment as she sat next to him.

"And I'm glad to see you too…" Ron replied ironically. Turning his attention to the driver, he ordered. "Nearest Bueno Nacho. On the double. I'll pay for your speeding tickets."

"You know you're quite the biggest jerk on the planet," Monique finally spoke up, as the car pulled away from the airfield. "And to think that we were actually worried about you."

"You were worried about me?" Ron leered at her. "Wow, I'm touched."

"Stuff it, Ron," Monique rolled her eyes. "I just hate job hunting. But you should be more sensitive. Some other people actually care about your well being."

"Aww… Wade's fine," Ron shook his head. "From the stock reports I read, he took good care of the company while I was gone."

"I was meaning Kim," Monique replied, gritting her teeth as she wondered whether her boss was intentionally trying to annoy her or plain being stupid. "She was more worried than all of us put together."

"Let her worry," Ron said dismissively. "I'm fine now, so everything's worked out okay."

"You seem to enjoy putting her through Hell, Ron," her voice turned cold. "Causing her so much worry, and then you brush her aside so easily. You don't deserve half a good friend as her."

"Yeah, well, she hasn't been that good of a friend to me for a few years herself," Ron shot back defensively.

"Are you still stuck nine year s back?" Monique raised her voice angrily. "Do you know what Kim has done for you the past three months? She has literally exhausted _all_ her favors looking for you. And if that isn't enough for you, she has been working literally twenty hours a day trying to track down every single lead of you."

"No one asked her to," Ron replied sullenly.

"That's the point!" Monique slapped her forehead. "No one asked her to, but she wanted to anyway!"

"Doesn't she have a boyfriend to worry about?" Ron muttered hotly. "Dan, Dick, douche-bag or something?"

"He dumped her!" Monique screeched. "Two months ago! Just because she couldn't make time for him! You were just too important for her to have her own personal life. Are you happy now?"

"Maybe," Ron crossed his arms across his chest, as the anger in him quickly evaporated. A slight smirk curled on his lips as he digested the new information.

"She gave up everything just to look for you!" Monique yelled at him. "And you didn't even bother to look her in the eye or thank her for all the trouble you put her through! God, Ron, get it into your thick head! You are important to her! So stop these stupid childish mind-games and stop trying to hurt her!"

"I'm not playing any mind-games here! And I'm not the one that did the most hurting, Monique," Ron replied uncomfortably. "Besides, there's something really important that I have to do anyway, more important than anything I've done since Team Possible was around..."

"What's so important that you couldn't even spare five minutes for your best friend in the whole wide world?" Monique replied coldly.

"You'll see," Ron replied cryptically.

* * *

Ron Stoppable stepped into the large atrium that is the lobby of the Stoppable Enterprises main building holding a Naco in one hand while his other hand still remained in a sling. He was flanked by Monique, his ever-present personal assistant as well as his two business partners. As he surveyed the room, he took note of the hundreds of reporters sitting impatiently for his all-important press conference. With a smile, he took one large bite into the cheesy snack in his hand, before stepping up the aisle and taking his position behind the podium.

"Hey guys," Ron cheerily announced into the microphones.

Before he could get another word out, reporters were instantly on their feet shouting questions at him.

"Mr. Stoppable, how did you escape the terrorists?"

"What do you intend to do with your captors?"

"Did you meet Osama bin Laden?"

"What did the terrorists want from you?"

Holding up a hand, Ron gingerly took another bite of his Naco as he savored the runny cheesy taste slowly in his mouth. Taking note that the man of the hour wasn't the slightest bit paying any attention to the deluge of questions, the horde of reporters slowly began to quiet down. Licking his lips, Ron devoured the rest of the Naco quickly. He let out a contented sigh as he savored the fading taste of his second Naco in three months.

"Alright," Ron continued, as he looked at all the puzzled faces. He let out a loud sigh, "Tell you what guys, this is way too formal and I need a seat." Ron strode around the podium, and slowly sat down in front of it, easing his way slowly down with his good hand.

"C'mon now guys," Ron spoke lightly as he gestured to everyone. "Sit down. Everyone, sit down on the floor with me. So that everyone from the back can see this."

The reporters glanced at each other and shrugged as they all sat down or knelt on the floor, watching the eccentric billionaire with rapt attention.

"Alright," Ron dusted his hands on his suit. "Now let's get to the point of this press conference. Have you ever stopped and wondered what you're doing with your lives? People have often asked me that. What kind of impact am I making on the world today? What have I done to make this world a better place? Honestly, I can't really answer all those questions now. A lot has happened to me which has forced me to reevaluate my priorities. That is why I, Ron Stoppable, would like to announce that, effective immediately, and for an indefinite time from this day forward," he paused for dramatic effect, "That Stoppable Enterprises will be shutting down its weapons division and would instead focus its efforts…"

Before Ron could finish the rest of his sentence, all the reporters immediately jumped to his feet and assailed him with a new barrage of questions. But they weren't the only one surprised; one look at his partners and closest aide said it all. Wade and Drew were dumbstruck at the surprise announcement, and even Monique, who thought that her boss couldn't surprise her anymore, began to revise that thought.

"Hang on now," Ron insisted as he tried to quell the mob. Just before he could say anything further, someone had interrupted the press conference.

"Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen," Wade had stepped up behind the podium and spoke to the crowd. "It would seem that Mr. Stoppable has had a very long day and he is tired from his recent escape from captivity, leading to this rash decision. Mr. Stoppable and I would like to discuss this… Interesting avenue further before we proceed with any decision of that magnitude. With all due respect, we will not be fielding any more questions."

As the reporters clamored for more answers, Wade had already ushered Ron into the elevator, followed closely by Monique and Drew. The metal doors shut quietly behind them, before the soothing elevator music started playing. Wade was shooting angry glances at Ron, while Drew was trying to scrutinize Ron's bemused look. Monique had just turned to study her latest brown Dolce shoes; the tension in the elevator was close to suffocating her.

Just as soon as the elevator doors slid open, Wade stomped out and looked coldly at Ron. "What the hell was that about? Don't you think you should discuss this with us before making a decision like that?"

"Wade," Ron replied. "I have had three months to think about it."

"Ron," Wade spoke, as he placed a hand on Ron's shoulder. "We've been friends for over fifteen years. Five of which I've spent with you building this place. This decision of yours affects not just the lives of thousands of employees currently employed by Stoppable Enterprises but also the hundreds and thousands of soldiers who are currently relying on our technology to keep them safe."

"That's right, Ron!" Drew interrupted hotly. "We invented the personal light combat armor, that's not only half the weight of Kevlar but just as effective and recyclable! We have done good things with this place! We've advanced technology so far that we are able to do things that we never thought possible!"

"But at what cost?" Ron raised his voice at his two partners. "Do you know what I saw out there? Weapons! Our weapons, used against our own soldiers! It turns out that we weren't just supplying the good guys! Someone has been double-dealing!"

"That's not our problem!" Wade protested. "That is just a problem with the system. Someone out there has been reselling our weapons! That's all! All we can do is tighten our security measures, input tracking devices and…"

"No! Wade, listen!" Ron cut him off. "Those weapons had shipping labels that were here in the states... As in the labels that are on the boxes while still under Stoppable Enterprises control, handled by our employees, and our management! These did not come from outside!" Ron glowered at a shocked Wade, who's eyes had widened at Ron's statements, and then at Drew, who's eyes had narrowed at the very same declarations. "Don't you see what is going on? What we're doing is wrong! More weapons aren't the key to resolving global conflict…"

"But haven't we been successful so far?" Wade pointed out angrily, quickly recovering from his shock. "Shutting us down won't do anyone any good, Stoppable. This is bigger than all of us and suddenly you want to call it off because you have a change of conscience?"

"Don't you think we should?" Ron shouted back. "Do you want to see our weapons in the hands of a child? We've gone too far, too fast! We've made so many weapons that we've lost sight of what this company was suppose to do! We were supposed to protect people! What is the point of protecting people if our weapons ultimately end up in the hands of the enemy?"

"Look, Ron," Wade squeezed his temples as he spoke. "You and I know how important this work is. Listen to me, Ron. Go home and take a break, take some time off. Take a month off, cool your head for a moment before you go through with this decision."

"Wade… I know this is what I want to do…" Ron spoke, but as he looked at the stone faces of Wade and Drew, he knew his words were falling on deaf ears.

"Take the month off, Stoppable," Drew insisted coldly. "We'll talk about this again after that."

"Fine," Ron threw up his hands in frustration. "But this matter is far from resolved." He strode off angrily towards the elevator, with a quiet Monique following closely behind him. His two associates watched him with arms crossed as they glowered at his back.

"What do we do about him?" Drew asked.

"Nothing," Wade replied grimly. "He'll come around. He has too."

"He had better," Drew replied as he turned to glare at the elevator door. "He's been following his own ideas and not the company's for far too long."

* * *

Monique picked up the prior day's newspaper from the front porch. It had been untouched, just as the day before, and the day before that, and every single day for the past two weeks since Ron's return from Afghanistan. With a sigh, she made her way in and deposited the periodical on the coffee table, and made her way to the workshop. Her boss has been holed up in there for the past two weeks, and refused to leave except for bathroom breaks and mealtimes.

"Here, brought you your morning Naco," Monique called down to Ron.

"Just place it by the computer," Ron called out, as he lay back on a table without his shirt on.

"Woah…" Monique whistled in amazement. "First time I've ever seen you wait on a hot Naco down. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Not exactly," Ron grunted as his skin touched the cold metal. "Good thing you're here, I could use a hand with this."

"What are you…" Monique gasped as she saw the glowing orb embedded in Ron's chest. "Is that the arc reactor? God, this is the first time I'm seeing it this close… Can I touch it?"

"I could do you one better," Ron grinned. "You can take it out of my chest."

"What?" Monique was taken aback by his cavalier attitude. "Won't that kill you?"

"No. Not immediately of course," Ron explained with a shrug. "This thing just happens to keep me alive for a while… I got a good fifteen minutes before I go into full cardiac arrest from the slivers in here. During that time, you're going to swap in the upgrade."

"Upgrade?" Monique asked.

"Right here," Ron gestured at a new glowing orb on the table next to him. "The old one's built in a cave, quite shoddy work. Nothing more than a couple of wires put together. The new one is at least more reliable with its power output."

"Err… Are you sure I'm right for this job?" Monique glanced hesitantly at the device. "Shouldn't you get a heart surgeon, or an electrical engineer? Or both?"

"Don't worry about it," Ron replied coolly. "You can unplug a toaster right?"

"Uh huh," Monique nodded with uncertainty evident in her eyes. "But you're one damn expensive toaster, Ron."

"Don't worry about it," Ron laid back on the table. "Just do it…"

Monique gulped as she glanced warily at the device. "So what do I do?"

"First, you turn the thing counter clockwise, slowly," Ron coached her through the process as he glanced down at his chest. "Right, slowly now, lift the thing out of my chest… Carefully now, don't let the thing touch the side of…" Ron suddenly hissed in pain as a jolt of electricity coursed through his body.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Ron!" Monique gasped. "Maybe I should call someone else…"

"Never mind," Ron gritted his teeth. "You're almost done. Now just reach into the hole and…"

"You want me to stick my hand in there?" Monique shuddered. "Is that even safe? Won't that hurt you?"

"Nah, it's perfectly safe," Ron grinned as he watched the grossed-out look on Monique's face. "Just reach in there and unplug the connector inside…"

"Eww…" Monique made a face, as she reached in and felt something gooey inside. She quickly fumbled around as she disconnected the old arc reactor from her boss's chest. "Done."

"Right," Ron's breathing started to become a little labored. "Now connect the new one…" Ron held the newer device and watched as Monique tentatively stuck her hand back into the cavity and reattached the connector.

"You know I deserve a raise for this," Monique grumbled. "This wasn't part of the job description."

"I'll just remember to get you something for your birthday," Ron replied, as he slid the new arc reactor into his chest. He twisted his device and locked it into place with a distinct click.

"My birthday was three months ago," Monique grumbled good-naturedly. "The day you left for Afghanistan."

"Oh…" Ron looked at her sheepishly as his breathing returned to normal. "Did I get you anything?"

"Yes you did," Monique replied with a smile.

"Oh good," Ron rubbed his head as he stood up. "So… What did I get you?"

"A really nice dress…" Monique smiled. "One of a kind, designer dress. I picked it out myself."

"Ah…" Ron grinned. "Alright then." He hopped off the table lightly and grabbed the warm paper bag next to his computer. Reaching into the bag, he pulled out a Naco. Peeling off the wrapper, he attacked it with gusto.

"So what have you been working on?" Monique asked, as she glanced around the workshop.

"Oh, something big…" Ron grinned in between mouthfuls.

"Care to share?" Monique asked.

"You know I don't show my incomplete works to people," Ron replied smugly. "Here, you can help me do something else. Get rid of this." He held out the old arc reactor to Monique.

"What do you want me to do with it?" Monique gawked at the piece of technology in her hands.

"Just get rid of it," Ron replied, as he turned back to his computer.

"It's such a shame, you know," Monique mused. "It did save your life before."

"Yeah, well, it served its purpose," Ron replied nonchalantly.

"Then can I have it?" Monique asked.

"Sure, I guess," Ron replied distractedly as he peered at his computer screen. "Do whatever you want with it."

"Alright then," Monique smiled at the device in her hand. "I think I have an idea for this." She watched her boss work feverishly at his computer, musing deep in thought and occasionally tapping away at the keyboard. "Hey, Ron…" she began. "You know this is the first time I've ever seen you like this."

"Like what?" Ron replied distractedly.

"You've actually shut yourself up your workshop for the past two weeks, working on this big, hush-hush secret project of yours," Monique commented. "You are practically a changed man."

"Really? I haven't noticed," Ron shrugged, as he took another bite out of his Naco.

"Yeah, you don't go out partying anymore," Monique smiled. "No more late nights, no more random one night stands. And you're being so passionate about this project of yours."

"Are you trying to get me to tell you about what I'm working on?" Ron finally turned to Monique, with a grin on his face.

"No," Monique lied. Batting her eyelids coquettishly, she replied, "Maybe… But I'll still like to say that I like these changes in you. So would Kim…"

"Uh huh," Ron just replied. "So what do you think of my intention to shut down my weapons division?"

"It's your company," Monique replied. "I can't say much else."

"No, I really want to hear what you think about it," Ron probed. "I mean, Wade and Drew think I'm crazy, and that I was just affected by my ordeal. But right now, even two weeks after that, I think to myself and I keep asking myself, where did I go wrong?"

"I'm glad that you're thinking of going out of this business," Monique finally said. "Your genius should have been used to help people instead of hurt people. I'm not a big fan of the Second Amendment, and I think these world's problems cannot be solved with guns and violence. In fact, the world would be a better place without guns."

"So…" Ron tentatively hazarded, "Would you object if I said I had a plan to destroy all my weapons out there in the world?"

"I think that would be something great," Monique spoke up. "But how are you going to do that?"

"That…" Ron smiled proudly. "Is what I am working on."

Monique returned his smile as she said, "That is a noble thought. But that's all you're going to let me know, right?"

"You know me so well," Ron said smugly.

Monique glared at her boss a little. He could be just so stubborn. Deciding to change her track, she hazarded, "So have you talked to Kim yet?"

"No."

"You mean you haven't even called Kim yet? Not since you came back from Afghanistan?" Monique started to feel really ticked off by her boss. "Kim and I had lunch together last Sunday. No wonder she kept asking about you. I'm sick of telling her that you are fine, and that you're very busy with this pet project of yours. Don't you think you should at least say something to Kim?"

"Nah, I've been busy," Ron replied. "As you can see…"

"Ron," Monique sighed tiredly at her boss. "I think you've shut yourself up in here for too long. You should get out of here, and get a little air to clear your head. You really need to sort things out between you and Kim."

"Things are fine just the way they are," Ron mumbled.

"So you think," Monique snipped. "You've been brooding too much in here anyway. I know it's good that you have something that you're really passionate about. But don't let it consume you until you ignore your friends."

"I'm not ignoring my friends," Ron replied apprehensively. "I'm just busy."

"Sure…" Monique grumbled. "Anyway, I came by to remind you that there is the Firemen's Charity Dinner tonight. If you're not too busy ignoring the people who cared about you, then maybe you would like to show your face in public tonight."

"I don't know…" Ron replied. "This is…"

"Ron, listen to yourself," Monique let out a loud sigh to let her boss know how annoyed she was with him. "Do you honestly believe you're that busy that you couldn't step out tonight?"

"I don't know…" Ron grudgingly admitted. "Will you be there?"

"Of course," Monique rolled her eyes. "I have to go and make excuses as to why my boss isn't showing up even though he sent in his RSVP months ago."

"I did?" Ron asked in surprise.

"I did it for you," Monique explained tersely. "Part of my job duties is to keep your social life in order too. And that also involves parties like these."

"Ah, Monique," Ron kicked back as he looked at his personal assistant bemusedly. "What would I ever do without you?"

"Probably nothing," Monique replied glibly. "So will I see you there tonight?"

"I will make time."

"You'd better." Monique said in a warning, but distant tone, already thinking on what excuses she had to make as to why her boss seemed to have disappeared from the public's eye.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

Yay! Past the action, back into the drama. Ron's being a huge dick here, but now he's a changed man, I think. Anyway, I'd love to write longer ANs this time, but I'm currently on the road, and I just modded a huge chunk of my other fic, and things are a mess, and I'm trying to get back on track with my life.

I do enjoy Monique's wit though. Ron's one damn expensive toaster. Anyway, I can't really understand what's Ron thinking the moment he stepped of the plane. Maybe it's because I didn't create the character Tony Stark, or that I'm just ripping off the movie, but I can't help but feel that there's something a little more than his gesture of brushing by Kim. Is he hurting her intentionally? Or is he trying to put on a brave front, to show that he's alright after being kidnapped for three months? Maybe it's just that he doesn't want to appear weak and helpless in front of her? I don't know, but having Ron in this position enriches the character a lot more than regular ol' Tony Stark, I feel. His motivations might be a little less discernible and his character a little deeper.

But maybe I'm just rambling because this is my second straight night on coffee, and I'm sleep deprived, and I have no Internet connection but sitting at a coffee shop drinking overpriced coffee that just downsized a large portion of its franchises, and fired a good five thousand barristas.


	5. Chapter 5

Calling up the security feed on his workshop computer, Ron watched cautiously as Monique left his house through the front door. Finally satisfied that he had some much needed privacy, he opened a file on his computer, input the password and sat back as the floor plates of his workshop shifted a bit. A raised platform emerged from the opening the plates made, and on it laid a complete chrome suit of armor.

With an excited grin on his face, Ron called up the blueprints, and went over the details one last time. Now that he had talked Monique into replacing the arc reactor embedded in his chest, he had just the right power source to power this thing. Getting up from his seat, he gave his latest invention a final look-over as he tightened small screws, and tucked essential wiring in the right places.

"Alright, let's see how this baby works," Ron declared proudly as he picked up the gunmetal gray-colored boots and hefted them onto the floor. Each boot weighed in at just over thirty-two pounds, but that in itself would be the least of his problems. Pressing a button on the side of the boot, the back part unhinged itself and widened just enough for Ron to slide his right foot in. Doing the same with the other boot, Ron felt immediately weighed down by the new footwear. Taking a step proved to be an arduous task as he tried to stop himself from falling over.

He jury-rigged the power cables of the boots with a couple of loose cables to the arc reactor in his chest, and as soon as the connectors clicked into place, a miraculous change took place. Ron flexed his muscles and swiveled his ankles; it felt as though he was wearing his running shoes.

Taking a couple of tentative steps around the workshop, he found it no different than walking regularly. A childish grin broke on his face, as he tried running, and found that everything responded the way he intended it to be, without restricting his movement one bit. After a momentary pause, he tried to lift his feet higher than they would move while running or walking. Much as he expected, without the leg pieces to assist his movements anything more movements that brought his feet above his knee was going to remind him of the fact that the boots still weighed thirty-two pounds.

Shrugging, a childlike grin crept onto his face, and he glanced at the far side of his workspace. "Now, let's do the Air Jordan..." Ron yelled, taking a running start before leaping as high as he could. The computer that monitored the muscles in his lower legs knew what he was trying to achieve and instantly triggered the repulsor technology in his soles.

With the added impetus, Ron's jump was far more impressive than any he had done before, even while training at Yamanouchi. Before he knew it, Ron was accelerating towards the ceiling at a stunning speed and smacked his face head-on on into the eighteen-foot high ceiling. After a few instants the repulsors cut off, dumping him into a dazed tangle of limbs and wiring from the storage closet he crashed into.

Groaning in pain, Ron rubbed his back and forehead for a moment, before staggering to his feet and hobbling over to his computer chair, pulling wiring and various components off of him the entire way. He collapsed into the chair with a loud grunt.

"Okay, note to self," Ron muttered angrily. "Next time, jump outside." Glancing over at the rest of the armor, a thought occurred to him and he broke out with a grin.

Punching a few commands into the computer, Ron happily watched as robotic arms descended from the ceiling and emerged from the floor to pick up various pieces of the remaining armor. Stepping forward, 

he activated the voice command, almost stumbling over his words in his excitement. "Activate armor emplacement routine!" he called, and watched in fascination as the robotic arms began snapping on pieces of armor onto his body. The last thing he saw was the helmet, with the face piece boring down on his head, before it enveloped him in darkness.

After a moment, Ron began to feel a hum in his chest as the arc reactor started to work towards its full capacity. The heads-up display inside the helmet flickered twice before it brightened, and gave Ron a highly detailed view of his surroundings. Taking a moment to adjust the display settings, Ron quickly got used to the fact that he was actually viewing the world through micro-cameras embedded in his armor.

"Activate enhanced reality systems..." he said in a quieter tone. He barely contained a crow of delight as the enhanced reality systems fed information to his suit's HUD. He glanced about his shop, smirking as the suit correctly identified anything that his eyes rested on for more than a few instants. His prize toolset he had won for engineer of the year six years earlier... Sockets and ratchet wrenches were identified, and a brief description came up if the manufacturer name was visible in his field of view.

"Manufacturer website," he grunted as he stared at his newest car, a pearl Mugello blue Audi R8. The website was up almost instantly, showing the entire Audi lineup. "Close site." Ron said quietly, his smile triumphant in its scope. After a moment of self indulgence, he sighed and stepped away from the table that had just held his armor.

"Now, this should prevent any more painful accidents," Ron declared with a huff. "Time to test the fun stuff... Initiate repulsors at ten percent power..."

As soon as he gave the voice-activated command, he felt a violent jolt as he was thrown backwards, careening wildly through the air before he slammed into a wall, leaving behind a more than a visible impact crack in the drywall, and spiderweb cracks from floor to ceiling. Shaking his head for a moment, Ron coughed as he got to his feet.

"Right..." Ron muttered to himself. "This is going to be a long day..."

* * *

It was already night, after numerous bumps, scrapes and cuts, Ron had managed to properly calibrate the internal gyroscopes and the computer could properly calculate to compensate for his shifts in center of gravity so that he would not be thrown across the room if he raised his arms too fast. That said, he finally whooped in triumph as he manage to steadily hover a good four feet above the workshop floor.

"Badical!" Ron shouted for joy, as he did a backflip, happily enjoying his newfound freedom from gravity. With a tired sigh, he floated back down to the ground and grinned happily at his accomplishments so far.

As he stripped himself of the armor, Ron glanced up at the computer clock. "Maybe the night's still young," Ron said to himself as he stretched his limbs out in the open. "I hope Monique doesn't mind me being fashionably late."

Forty minutes later had Ron through a quick shower and into a newly pressed suit. He was cruising downtown in his custom painted, silver accented Aston Martin. Relishing the freedom of simply cruising down the streets, Ron pulled to a screeching halt right outside a rather swanky-looking hotel. Stepping 

out of his car, and sliding his sunglasses into his pocket, Ron tossed his keys to the valet and winked at him as the young man gawked at the crisp one-hundred dollar bill slid into the keyring.

Stepping up to the unfurled red carpet, he noted that most of the VIPs were already inside, hobnobbing and brown-nosing each other for the Firemen's Charity Fundraiser. There was still quite a significant number of reporters camping outside, mostly of the paparazzi sort. Seeing that the infamous Ron Stoppable was making his first public appearance since his strange press conference two weeks earlier, they immediately jumped out of their bored stupors to mob him with questions.

With a charming smile, and knowing that this picture might just make the cover of People magazine, Ron declined any questions coolly as he stepped into the hotel, leaving behind an excited gaggle of reporters. It was only a matter of time now before Ron would be seen leaving the hotel with his latest woman for the night, and it was only a matter of speculation as to who would be able to tie the billionaire playboy down.

As he stepped into the grand ballroom of the hotel, he garnered more than a few surprised stares from the other guests. Ron slid through the crowd easily, declining any handshakes, preferring to give a curt nod wherever he absolutely had to and then moving on. Walking up to the bar, he politely requested a scotch on the rocks, before taking his time to survey the crowd.

A predatory smile crossed his face as his eyes drank in the sight of a dozen or so lovely beauties giggling flirtatiously at him, and coyly begging him to come hither with their eyes. Taking a long sip of his drink, he decided to take his time; he was going to enjoy tonight, after all.

"So I guess you decided to make an appearance," a sultry feminine voice purred as a woman in a red dress slid up to the bar beside Ron. He glanced down at her feet, and took note of the long side slit in her dress that let her show off her long, smoothly toned legs. Ron grinned as he remembered those legs wrapped around him in the throes of passion not too long back. Without turning to the voice, he replied:

"Hello, Bonnie."

"It would seem that we still have business to discuss," Bonnie remarked as she licked her lip suggestively. "During our last meeting... I was left a little unsatisfied."

"Oh come now, Bonnie," Ron turned to her with a smirk. "You don't expect me to show you all my tricks in one night?"

"I suppose we better resume our partnership then," Bonnie remarked coolly, as she gently laid a hand on his. Stroking her fingers lightly back and forth, she looked coyly at him and said, "I do have a couple of interesting propositions for you..."

Just as Ron was about to lean in to give her a kiss on the lips the crowd parted a little, and of the corner of his eye he thought he had seen...

"Maybe later, Bonnie," Ron murmured softly into her ear as he swerved at the last moment to give her a chaste peck on the cheek. Before he could face the wrath of rejecting Bonnie Rockwaller, well-known socialite and CEO of the Rockwaller Industries International Group, Ron had already made his way through the crowd before stepping up before his target. "Hey, Monique..."

Monique turned around to face Ron in surprise. "I thought you wouldn't be coming," Monique smiled. "You could have at least let me know. I wouldn't have had to spend the last two hours thinking up excuses for you."

"Hey, then it wouldn't be a surprise, right?" Ron smiled back charmingly. "I have to say, Monique, you look absolutely ravishing in that dress."

"Thank you, Ron," Monique blushed a little. "Just so you know, this was my birthday present from you."

"Really?" Ron stepped back a little and gave her an appraising look. He studied the long black strapless dress, and admired the way it seemed to accentuate Monique's curves in all the right ways. Along with the way Monique had done her hair up in a bun, plus the black sequin heels, Monique managed to look elegant, charming and seductive all at the same time. "The dress looks expensive, but I bet it's worth every dollar on you."

"You're generous with your compliments tonight," Monique remarked wryly.

"It's just that I've never seen you look like this before," Ron replied smoothly.

"Oh yes I have," Monique replied sarcastically. "It's just that you're usually too caught up on your bimbos that you never notice me trying to appease your business associates for you."

"Oh Monique," Ron laughed infectiously. "Since you look so good tonight, would you like to have this dance with me?" He extended an inviting hand to the mocha skin tone woman.

"I don't know..." Monique replied hesitantly.

"Oh come on, Monique," Ron coaxed with a twinkle in his eye. "Don't be so stuffy. Let's just go out there and have some fun, like we used to before all this..." He waved his hands airily about him, drawing Monique's attention away from him and to the crowd and the hotel's ballroom.

Before she could protest any further, Ron had already taken her by the arm and led her towards the dance floor. Monique tensed up, as Ron politely rested a hand on her hip, while taking her hand into his. Grudgingly, she bowed her head a little as she placed her hand on his shoulder. A glimpse of a smile appeared on Ron's face, and before she could make a comment, she found herself being twirled around the ballroom in a comfortable rhythm.

Monique brought herself to smile at her boss, as she relaxed slightly, still aware of a couple of glaring looks and wagging tongues around her. She glanced awkwardly to the side, and noticed Bonnie was giving her a deadly look, while she slammed down her cocktail. Blushing, she turned back to Ron, only to find that his gaze never left her for a moment.

"Ron..." she started, sounding unsure of herself.

"Yes, Monique?"

"A lot of people are looking at us..." Monique pointed out.

"Let them," Ron coolly replied. "They have never seen such beauty like yours before."

"But..."

"Relax, Monique," Ron cooed. "You should enjoy yourself, you deserve it... I know I don't appreciate you enough, so for tonight, forget about being my personal assistant..."

Monique couldn't help but smile at his words, "If you say so, Ron..." Without knowing it, she had already settled into a comfortable rhythm, as they sashayed around the dance floor. With their eyes locked on each other, Monique started to let her inhibitions slip. She smiled happily, as she felt Ron's large and warm hand gently rubbing her lower back in a slow circular motion, slowly relaxing her into arms. Forgetting for a moment that she'd never let a man press so closely against her without at least three dates, she leaned in closer, his aftershave was most intoxicating. Her lips leaned in closer... She closed her eyes...

And jerked away in horror. "So that's how you do it!" she growled, the anger flashing in her eyes.

Ron looked at her in confusion. "I don't know what you're talking about, Monique."

Monique snapped, "No! I need..." She bit her tongue as she realized her outburst had drawn a few curious stares. Monique took a deep breath to compose herself. "No... I need some fresh air." She pulled away from Ron abruptly and walked towards the open balcony of the ballroom.

"What's wrong, Monique?" Ron asked as he followed her out onto the balcony.

Turning to face the blond, Monique growled angrily, "You! _You're_ what's wrong! I thought you'd changed, but I was wrong! You haven't changed one bit! Let me tell you something, I'm not one of those cheap women that you are going to have a one night stand with just to get at Kim."

"What are you talking about?" Ron asked, genuinely surprised. "I just find you very beautiful tonight..."

"Stop your sweet talking, Ron," Monique demanded. "You know just as well as I do that you don't have any feelings for me. So stop pretending like you care about me beyond your assistant and _maybe_ a friend, _or_ that you're the least bit interested in me. You're incapable of feeling anything for anyone else ever since Kim dumped you."

"This isn't about Kim!" Ron insisted unconvincingly.

"Oh yeah?" Monique challenged. "When you close your eyes, just before you kiss someone, whose face do you see?"

Ron found himself without a reply to her question.

"See? Ron, you keep doing this!" Monique insisted as she angrily stomped her foot. "But do you think this is fair to me? You're still in love with Kim, yet you tried to seduce me!"

"So what if I'm still in love with Kim?" Ron replied tiredly. "She doesn't love me anyway."

"Oh god, Ron!" Monique glared at him. "Do you really think she doesn't love you? Let me tell you something, Ronald Francis Stoppable. Do you know why Kim broke up with you?"

"Because I wasn't successful enough for her, and I didn't make it into GJ!" Ron replied bitterly.

"You honestly think that that's the case?" Monique raised her voice impatiently. "Look at yourself! You're the most successful man of the decade! You are the very definition of success, with the way you built your own multibillion dollar corporation in five years! You have what most women are looking for already! Wealth, security and damn good looks!"

"Then why?" Ron challenged her. "If I am all of that, why hasn't Kim come back to me yet?"

"Because you are the most immature guy I have ever known!" Monique pointed out in exasperation. "Look at you. You sleep with so many women just so that you can hurt Kim. You've gotten your PhDs, found your own company and became rich and successful, only to shove it into Kim's face. You find every single opportunity you can to rub Kim the wrong way, and trample on her feelings as though you don't care when in actual fact you do! Ron Stoppable, you are the most childish and petty jerk I have ever known!"

Ron looked hurtfully at Monique as he slowly digested her words. "Well..." he mumbled apprehensively. "She did it to me first."

"There!" Monique exclaimed. "See what I mean? You're acting like a child. How old are you? Ten? What is all this 'She started it!' business?"

"She broke up with me first," Ron insisted. "Then she had to go and date Brad or whatever his name was and wave her latest upgrade in front of me, even though she promised me a year to get my shit together!"

"Ron Stoppable!" Monique almost lost her temper. "_Brian_ wasn't the reason she broke up with you! Look, the real deal with Brian is that he was also an agent trainee like Kim at Global Justice. Ever since you two broke up, he had been constantly asking her to go out with him! So finally, _six months_ later, Kim finally relents and goes out on a few friendly dates with him. We just happened to bump into them at that restaurant, Ron! It was an honest mistake; she wasn't trying to rub things in your face!"

"But she went out on a date with him! And I distinctly remember you ditching me to go hang with them..." Ron argued lamely, only to be interrupted by an even angrier Monique.

"Ron, stop being selfish! Who Kim dates is none of your business, and as a good friend and ex-boyfriend, you should have actually been happy for her!" Monique exclaimed exasperatedly. She shook her head as she continued, "And by the way, it was just a friendly date! Kim has _never_ thought of Brian as anything more than a colleague. Of course if you would actually listen instead of snap at us at the mention of his name, you would have known that he finally gave up after Brian realized that Kim wasn't interested in him. Which is much more than I can say for you! You went and slept with Tara just to get back at Kim!"

"Well of course he broke it off with her after that; she gave him what he wanted already on that first date at the club…" Ron growled

"What, a dance? I had more dances with him than she did! Besides, weren't you on the phone with Tara that night?"

Monique's sarcastic quip hit Ron deep, and he shook his head angrily at her. "Look, I was on the phone with her 'cause Josh had just broken up with her, and she needed someone to talk to!" Ron gritted his teeth to retain a semblance of control, and keep his voice in check, "Besides, she tried to reach Kim first, but I'm sure we both know, Monique, Kim was busy with more than just _dancing_ at the club. You and Kim can keep as many secrets as you want from me. But I'm not the only one sleeping around! I can just go and ask all her ex-boyfriends and find out for myself!"

"Okay, well, how many boyfriends do you think Kim had after you?" Monique asked, as she narrowed her eyes at Ron.

"I don't know..." Ron hazarded a guess. "I'd say about ten, at least? In the past year alone?"

"Try two! In the past nine years!" Monique replied in frustration. "And that's already including Brian! Look, Ron, I know Kim, and I know she took the breakup just as hard as you..."

"Yeah right," Ron snorted with disbelief. "If she did, why'd she jump in the sack with the first hottie that she could hook up with?"

"Say what you will, but don't you dare drag her down to your level, not after what you've put her through…" Monique glared at him, her fist balled up and ready to smack him for his last comment. "But that's neither here nor there! You _know_ Kim doesn't handle things the way you do. She keeps it to herself, and she throws herself at her work..."

"Yeah, _just_ her work?" Ron interrupted, his sarcastic quip making Monique flinch as if slapped.

"Yes, Ron, just her work. And even though she's busy as Hell, she still requests for additional assignments. Having more work is just her way of coping with not having to think about you... And yes, Ron, she thinks about you all the time!"

"No, she doesn't," Ron muttered under his breath, sighing in annoyance.

Monique bowed her head slightly, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. "Ron... Fine, if you don't want to listen to me, whatever..." Monique sighed. "I've tried helping you two so far, whether it is to move on, or whether to get back together. Kim's just so stubborn that she doesn't want to bring the issue up with you. And you're just too immature to actually fix your own damned attitude."

"Fine," Ron raised an eyebrow. "If you know everything, why did Kim break up with me in the first place?"

"Do you remember what you two were arguing about just before she walked out the door?" Monique asked with a sigh.

"Yeah, about my rejection to Global Justice," Ron replied unhappily. "She wasn't happy, and said that I didn't take the entrance exam seriously, and flunked out."

"And do you remember what you said?" Monique asked.

"No," Ron replied ironically. "Please refresh my memory."

"You said that you were going to try to work as a clerk or janitor at Global Justice, just so you two could be together," Monique reminded him.

"Yeah, so?" Ron argued. "Is that wrong of me to want to be with my girlfriend?"

"Ron," Monique shook her head. "Kim wasn't angry that you didn't make it into Global Justice with her. Yes, maybe it got her annoyed a bit, but she honestly loves you and wouldn't blame you over something you couldn't control. But she'd like you to be a bit more serious about your future."

"She wanted me to join the army for a year!" Ron raised his voice. "But we were in a war, Monique! I wouldn't have been able to apply to GJ for over three! She basically said she didn't want me to be around!"

"She wanted you to join the army for a year, so that you would have some additional clout on your resume when you applied to Global Justice during their next recruiting season," Monique's voice grated dangerously. "And she already had assurances you would have stayed in the States!"

"She never said anything about me staying here! I went to the recruiter like Kim told me to, and he said that there was nothing else other than infantry duty, which would have put me in Iraq or Afghanistan for at least eighteen months! Besides, I could have done all that she wanted me to do as a janitor with Global Justice!" Ron pointed out. "That way, I could've still applied the next year, and we wouldn't have had to be apart!"

"See? That's your problem, Ron..." Monique said slowly. "You're always settling... You're always okay with things as long as you have Kim by your side... That's what bothered Kim the most. You don't care about yourself, as long as Kim is okay."

"Things had worked out fine in high school and college," Ron replied defensively. "I didn't need to work like she did, and I could concentrate on making sure everything was good for her..."

"Ron, you are Kim's Potential Boy for a reason," Monique said after several seconds. "You are capable of so much, and yet with Kim by your side, it's like you have nothing else to work for, nothing else to dream for. When Kim broke up with you, look at you... Look at all the things that you have done just to try to win her back..."

Ron stared silently at her, biting down hard on his lip as he held back a few hot remarks in the front of his mind.

"Ron," Monique pointed out. "I have disagreed with Kim from day one that the best way to motivate you was to break up with you, but I guess she believes in tough love. I think it's time you stop whatever you're doing and think for a moment. If you and Kim got back together tomorrow, would you no longer be as motivated? Would you leave your company in the hands of Wade and Drew?

"Maybe," Ron replied stubbornly.

"Listen to me for a moment here, Ronald," Monique's eyes flashed angrily. "Kim wants, and has always wanted, you to try your best. _Not_ try your best_ for her_. You need your own life and dreams to follow, not hers. She didn't want you to be left with nothing if something happened to her at GJ, Ron... That's why she did what she did. But don't ever doubt for a moment, Kim loves you very much, and she only wants the best for you. Even if that meant breaking up with you."

There was a long pause of silence, with only the light music and the soft murmurs of conversation in the background. "Alright, I give up! Why are you only telling me this now?" Ron finally spoke up.

"Because you were about to cross a very dangerous line," Monique paused and eyed Ron carefully. "Don't forget for a moment that I'm Kim's best friend; I know how she feels about you. And if anything were to happen between us, I wouldn't be able to look Kim in the eye ever again." Monique sighed and added with a sad smile, "I'm also getting real tired of both of you dancing around this... You're both my best friends, and I don't want to see you two hurting anymore!"

Despite his emotions, the fresh reopening of the feelings of betrayal he felt, Ron was unable to do anything but stare sorrowfully at Monique, "Oh..." was the only word that escaped his lips, and he at least had the decency to look guilty for what he'd almost done to his personal aide and friend.

"I think we've both said enough," Monique replied with a sigh. "Just go home and think about making it up to Kim. And on your way out, don't let Bonnie sink her claws into you: she's been eyeing you ever since you walked in."

"Right, Monique," Ron nodded his head. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Good night, Ron," Monique said as she watched the back of her boss disappear into the crowd.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

Alright, I kinda like this chapter out of all the chapters in the whole story. I just like the way Ron and Monique turned out. I don't know, can't really explain it, but the way it just comes together, and Ron displaying his playboy side suddenly gets shut down by Monique who has nothing but the best interests of Kim and Ron in mind. It sort of reminds Ron that there are people out there who still support the both of them, and maybe Ron would now realize that he's being quite a dick.

Anyway, I'm heading out, got me my job, and I'm starting next week. However, will be in a new city (again!) and new apartment and most importantly, new car! Okay, it's going to be a second hand car. But yeah, whirlwind changes abound, but I'm still not abandoning my stories just yet. So wish me luck, and this might be my last update for a while, which means a month or so.

And yeah, I'd try to reply to reviews when I can.


	6. Chapter 6

Ron woke up late the next morning. It was already 10am and although he was still on his month-long hiatus from his company, Stoppable Enterprises, he still hated waking up late, and often wondered why he always used to prefer doing so. He had long gotten rid of his old habits of waking up past noon; trying to get two PhDs in three years tends to force that on a guy. But he had spent most of last night tossing and turning in his bed, his conversation Monique replayed itself in his mind over and over again.

_What did Monique mean by try my best, and not try my best for Kim?_ Ron groused to himself. The night's sleep had not given him any further answers.

Grumbling to himself as he slid out of bed, Ron decided to put things off his mind for a moment, and test out his latest invention. At least he _hoped_ that would take his mind off things. Complex and intricate electronics he understood, and quite well. Girls, on the other hand, were a whole different matter. At least technology was straightforward.

_You don't break up with someone you love!_ Ron thought to himself bitterly. _That's just stupid__**...**_

Ron decided that he would ask Monique about it later again when she came by. Properly filing away that thought for later, Ron quickly washed up and went down to his workshop. After yesterday's tests, the suit was more or less ready; it offered very decent protection, while not limiting his mobility at all. The flight mode was more than satisfactory despite its earlier issues of lacking the proper feedback calibrations. And the red and gold paintwork had properly dried overnight, leaving a very polished and shiny finish.

"All that's left now is a practical field test." Ron muttered happily, and quickly donned the armor, flexing his joints and made sure that everything was in place. Giving his suit one last diagnostic check, he muttered to himself, "Okay… Let's go."

Initiating all repulsors in his palms and soles, Ron zoomed out of his workshop and straight vertically into the crisp morning atmosphere. Ron felt his spirits lifted by the beautiful blue sky, and did a few aerial maneuvers just to break it in. So far, his suit didn't seem to give him any problems. The turbulence didn't affect him as much as he would have thought, as the computers quickly corrected, using minute thrust alterations and subtle body articulation that he barely felt to counteract any sudden and unwanted movements.

Feeling inspired, Ron grinned as he glanced up to the sky. Suborbital was a word that flashed through his mind. Suborbital meant that his suit would need to be traveling vertically at least Mach 4.1, and preferably around Mach 5 to achieve any acceptable distance. Watching the speedometer on his HUD, Ron mused at the possibility. He was just pushing Mach 4, but hey, what the heck? Life was about pushing the envelope, right?

Veering straight up, Ron initiated maximum power on his repulsors, and watched with satisfaction as he started to climb. Past seventy thousand feet, Ron was still happily enjoying his latest endeavor when he suddenly felt stiffness in his left arm. Glancing at the diagnostics showed that everything was working as it was suppose to. Ron tilted his head to look down at his body and realized that a thin shiny layer of ice was starting to form around his joints.

"Uh, oh!" Ron muttered out loud, as his left repulsor suddenly sputtered and died. The ice must have interfered with the suit's ability to adjust according to the computer corrections, leading to an 

emergency shutdown of the repulsor to prevent any accidents. But at one hundred and fifteen thousand feet above sea level, that would only lead to a bigger incident.

Before Ron could steer himself back towards a more manageable altitude, the rest of his repulsors gasped and died, and for a moment Ron felt himself floating in midair. The sensation was short lived, as gravity took over and hurtled Ron towards the ground. However, with his momentum, he still climbed an additional ten thousand feet, and he quickly calculated that a fall from one hundred and twenty-five thousand feet would be the equivalent force of… Ron did not have time to imagine the consequences.

As his onboard computer started flashing warning signs, Ron tried to force the joints in his suit to move. "C'mon! C'mon!" Ron yelled at the machine, ignoring the spinning Earth below him. The altimeter was going crazy as the numbers kept shrinking faster and faster.

Ron finally managed to free his right arm and tried to slap his left arm to shake free any frozen condensation that had seeped into the joints. He tried to kick start his repulsors again, and they managed to flare up for a moment before being overridden again by the emergency shutdown.

"No, no, no, no!" Ron cursed as he tried to override the emergency controls. "C'mon, baby!"

Just as the altimeter hit past the two thousand mark, to Ron's relief, he managed to restart all four repulsors. Firing away at full thrusts, he managed to slow his descent, hopefully enough so it wouldn't be lethal, before he felt his entire body crash into the hard, hard ground.

Ron slowly got to his knees and crawled out of the crater he had just made in the ground. Other than the sheer physical pain of being hit by the ground and having the breath knocked out of him, his onboard computer had indicated that he was in perfect condition with no broken bones. Flopping on his back, Ron unhinged the face-mask and stared straight up at the blue sky.

"Dammit," Ron grumbled out loud, as he glared angrily at the heavens. "How could I forget such a small detail? Computer, make a note. Fix icing problem." He slowly sat up and looked down at his body. Considering his fall, the fact that the polarized suit of armor didn't suffer a ding was a miracle. "At least you're in better shape than me," Ron grumbled. "Now I know you'll survive being hit by a tank."

As he glanced around his unfamiliar surroundings, Ron called up the GPS computer to triangulate his location. "Hmm… Not bad… Five hundred miles from home," Ron remarked sarcastically. "So there. Flight test done. Note to self, do not go over seventy thousand feet above sea-level until you fix the icing issues."

Ron let a tentative smile of satisfaction grow on his lips as he beheld his finished work. Two weeks, not a bad time from paper to a finished product. Of course, Ron mumbled a silent thanks to Demenz for providing most of the initial programming and designs.

Ron suddenly slammed his fist into the ground. Demenz wasn't supposed to die. It just wasn't… The way he was gunned down with Ron's own weapons… Ron grinded his teeth as he felt rage grip him. Looking at his hands encased by their joint invention, Ron flexed his fingers.

_Now it's time for a practical test._

* * *

"(Get the women and children out of here! We only want men who can fight!)" the leader of the terrorists, toting an assault rifle and other combat arms, yelled in Arabic at the men running past him. Standing outside a small village of dusty brick houses, he barked orders, only to be punctuated by random firing of bullets. "If anyone resists, kill them!"

He went strode forward to the nearest house and kicked down the door. "Come out!" he barked threateningly into the house, pointing his gun into the darkened room. When there was no sign of any movement, the leader strode in and aimed his gun at the corner of the one-room house. A man crouched in the corner, draping his body protectively over his wife and daughter.

"(Dog!)" the man spat as he marched forward. "(Drag them out of here!)" Two men immediately followed him in from behind; the first grabbed the man by the collar and yanked him off his family, while the second grabbed the child and lifted her over his shoulder.

"(No! Leave my daughter alone!)" the mother cried out. She made a frantic grab for her child's hands, before the leader of the terrorists stepped in and slammed the side of her face with the butt of his machine gun.

"(Stay down!)" the leader screamed at the husband who struggled to shake off the man holding him. "(I said stay down!)" he aimed his rifle at the man squarely between the eyes, his finger tense on the trigger. The man immediately ceased struggling.

The woman laid there sobbing as she stretched out her hand to reach for her child. The leader grabbed her by the arm and hauled her to her feet before roughly pushing her, beckoning her to follow her child. The husband glared murderously at the leader, as he felt a muzzle of a rifle pressed dangerously at the nape of his neck.

"(This one has spirit…)" the leader remarked at the husband. "(But I don't like the way he's looking at me. Kill him.)"

The husband opened his eyes in panic, and as he knelt on his knees, he gave one final prayer before…

A mind-numbing explosion rocked the building. "What was that?" the leader of the terrorist yelled out as he ran outside to take a look. His jaw dropped at the scene before him.

Fourteen of his men lay on the ground injured or unconscious. One of his two trucks lay in smoldering ruin, its driver and gunner burning within the wreckage. Most of the women and children they had kidnapped were huddled against the side of the building, watching in awe at the sight before them.

"Alhamdulillah!" the leader mouthed in shock. The six-foot tall humanoid, encased in red and gold battle armor, stood proudly in the middle of the devastation like the fabled angel of death. Slowly it swiveled its head to look at the man, its glowing blue eyes seeming to burn with the very fires of hell itself, as if its gaze passed judgment the man standing stock still before it.

It took a step forward towards the awestruck man, and the ground seemed to shake beneath its feet. The man could feel his feet trembling as the behemoth advanced closer. In a fit of panic, he raised his weapon and screamed at the unearthly being, squeezing the trigger of his assault rifle.

The bullets seem to zing off the being, as it continued to unflinchingly close in towards its target. As the man drained his magazine of bullets, he fumbled beneath his tunic for a refill; unfortunately for him, the hulking machine was before him. With ease, it picked the man up with its right hand and flung him aside into a stone wall. The leader of the terrorist felt consciousness slip from his mind as his vision quickly faded.

The behemoth continued on with its rampage.

* * *

"Commander Possible," a nervous agent urgently called to Kim who was keeping an eye on things in the Global Justice command room. "We have some activity about four hundred miles west of Kabul. I was wondering if there's an operation going on there currently."

"Show me, Agent Coutier" Kim marched over to his terminal as she peered at the live satellite feed on the monitors. "What am I looking at?"

"That is a village which we suspect has ties to the terrorists," the agent briefed her quickly. "The terrorists might have been using that as a weapons depot to resupply. So far, in the last fifteen minutes satellites have detected three major explosions in the area, and the live feed shows several smaller explosions in the last two. It looks like a munitions dump just been blew sky high…"

"Global Justice does not have any operatives in the immediate area," Kim replied crossly, as she watched the screen.

"So do you think the Army?"

"Maybe…" Kim remarked dryly. "But it's unlikely… They would have alerted us if they were launching an operation in the area. Otherwise if there was a screw-up, it will be one major mess to clean up… Agent Johnson," Kim turned to shout across the room at an agent sitting in a corner cubicle. "Get me General McAllister, Kabul Central Command and Control. I want to know what's going on. Agent Coutier, keep monitoring this, and let me know if anything _else_ is happening."

"And we have a forth explosion," Agent Coutier remarked. "It's like a warzone down there."

"Dammit, there are civilian lives down there," Kim cursed. "Someone is being reckless."

"I have the military on the line," Agent Johnson yelled back. "They don't have any operations in the area either, but do have a global hawk en route for surveillance, and are asking if we need a feed?"

"Tell them ASAP, please and thank you..." Kim muttered absently, before gritting her teeth, "Dammit, what the hell is going on?" Kim muttered aloud to herself. "It could be one of our allies. But we'd better be careful until we find out."

"Commander Possible," Agent Coutier immediately called for her attention again. "We've got a new development; there's a strange radar reading… An object is moving away from the area at super-... Make that _hypersonic_ speeds."

"Object? What kind of object?" Kim snapped as she watched the little blip on the monitor zip away from the explosions. "Plane? Helicopter? Missile?"

"I don't know," Agent Coutier shrugged as he brought the image to center on the moving object. "It's too small to be an aircraft of any sort… I almost missed it on the radar, usually the computer dismisses something that size as a flock of birds but at the speeds it's moving… It has to be man-made."

Kim reached down at her console and tapped in a few commands, then her authentication challenge and answer. Immediately after finishing her entries, a young looking lieutenant commander in a GJ issue blue jumpsuit came up on her vid-link screen. "How can we help you, Commander Possible?"

"Lieutenant Commander Jameson, I need you to scramble two of our F-37s, preferably with an intercept load-out, and they are authorized to use _full_ military power. Their ROE are fire under direct order from myself or Director Director, or if fired upon. Before we go shooting, I want radio and/or visual contact on this bogey," Kim ordered. "Whatever it is, we better hope that it's _not_ hostile." She briefly glanced at Agent Coutier, "Coutier, can we get a better satellite visual?"

"No, it's too small and fast," Agent Coutier remarked.

"Then track it, don't let it out of our sight," Kim ordered.

"F-37s in the air, ETA in twelve minutes."

"Good, thank you, Lieutenant Commander Jameson" Kim replied seriously. "I want that thing out of restricted airspace immediately."

They watched carefully on the screen as the radar continued to track the high-speed object's movement. Agent Coutier's jaw almost dropped in surprise at the speeds the object was maintaining. "Holy sweet Mary mother of Christ… That thing has to be out of this world. It must be some secret weapon the Russians or the Chinese are developing. Our F-37s are barely catching up to it."

"Watch your language, agent," Kim reprimanded him crossly. She didn't like the way the object seemed to be flaunting itself. Some aspect of her agent's remark suddenly made something click into place. Secret weapon, advanced technology… _Could it be_? Whipping her cell phone out of her pocket, she flipped it open and pressed the speed dial, and waited as it rang through.

"Ah, hello?" a darkly jovial voice called through the phone.

"Ron?" Kim dropped the pleasantries immediately. "What are you doing? Why is it so noisy over there?"

"Oh, it's nothing," Ron's grin was evident in the sound of his voice. "I'm just taking a drive with the top down. Terrific weather we're having today, eh, Kim?"

"Right, Ron," Kim cut him short suddenly. "Ron, we have a situation here. We have a terrorist hot spot in Afghanistan being attacked by an unknown object that just flew away at supersonic speeds. Do you have any tech in the area?"

"Tech?" Ron sounded genuinely surprised. "What makes you think I have any tech in that area? Afghanistan is a long way from home, you know. And there are no Bueno Nachos nearby."

"Call it a crazy hunch," Kim replied frostily, as she bit back on a completely different retort. "It's just that that was the area where you were held captive by the terrorists. Between your escape, the proximity to the incident, your sudden intent on terminating your weapons division and your top secret project for the last two weeks, I just have to ask, is that your doing?"

"Nah, chill, Kim," Ron replied lightly. "That completely has nothing to do with me."

"Good," Kim remarked. "Because we have two F-37s within firing range and we're going to shoot it down since it's not responding to radio communications..."

"What?" Ron yelped in surprise, causing Kim to flinch her head away from the phone. "Hang on a minute, Kim!"

"Commander Possible, the F-37s are engaging as ordered," Agent Coutier suddenly called out.

"Hang on, Ron," Kim said quickly to Ron before turning her attention towards the agent. "Put them on speaker, and relay their guncams to us, I want to know what's going on…"

"… is Red Two, we are getting a lock on the target." A first voice sounded over the speakers.

"This is Commander Possible," Kim spoke out loud. "Do you have visual contact?"

"We see it," Red Two reported over the radio. There was a short pause before the pilot continued. "What the hell is that thing?"

"What do you see?" Kim commanded urgently.

"It's… I don't know, sir," Red Two replied hesitantly. "It appears to be a man in a suit of armor."

"What?" Kim almost dropped her phone in surprise. "Could you confirm that, Red One?"

"What he said, sir," Red One answered, her voice certain but flabbergasted. "Man-sized object with limbs… It's definitely not one of ours, I've never seen anything like that. Could be Chinese."

"Still no answer to radio hails?" Kim asked neutrally.

"None, ma'am" Red One and Two replied in unison.

"Shoot it down," Kim ordered immediately.

"Roger. I have a firing solution," Red Two reported in. "And firing…"

"Kim!" a teeny voice screamed from the phone in her hand.

"Oh sorry, Ron!" Kim hurriedly raised the phone back to her ear and apologized to Ron. "Look, I'm in the middle of something now, I'll call you back later."

"No! Wait! Kim!" Ron shouted each word between gasps of breaths.

"Ron? What's wrong with you?" Kim asked as she felt a surge of concern. "What's going on? You sound out of breath." Her attention was suddenly snatched away again by yelling that came through the radio speakers.

"Holy shit!" Red Two shouted over the radio. "The bogey just dropped a chaff and did a complete one eighty! I've never seen anything move like it!"

"Shit!" Red One screamed. "It's behind us now!"

"Break left! Break left!" Red Two called, "Pancaking!" His voice suddenly strained as the view from his gun camera spun crazily one hundred and eighty degrees to both his underside and right. Through his facemask's microphone, the sound of the engine straining and Stoppable Enterprises repulsor maneuvering jets firing to twist and flip the multi-ton craft was easily audible over his labored breathing. Finally the plane righted itself from its extreme flip and turn maneuver, the repulsors firing just long enough to bring it back up to speed before cutting out to cool down.

"What's going on?" Kim ordered through the radio, as her heart seized in panic. She watched attentively at the radar screen as three blips seem to chase each other randomly across the screen.

"It's on my tail!" Red One shouted.

"I got your back! It's in my sights… And… Firing guns!" Red Two shouted, before a series of small little explosions were heard as his fighter's Stoppable Enterprises twin 20mm rotary cannon started firing. After a momentary burst, Red Two reported in, "I hit it! I think I did… But it doesn't seem to be slowing down! Hang on, switching to missiles…"

"Hold fire, he's _on_ me!" Red One barked, her gun camera footage obscured slightly by a foot wedged solidly in the outer skin of her jet. "Trying to shake him! Red Two, regain lock as soon as you're able!"

"Copy, Red One" Red Two answered, before growling triumphantly, "He's off, and... Oh, shit!" The radio chatter was suddenly interrupted by a loud explosion as Red Two screamed over the radio. "I'm hit! I'm going down! Punching out!"

"Red One! Report!" Kim yelled into the radio. "What happened?"

"There was a midair collision, sir!" Red One shouted into the radio. "Bugger pulled a maneuver out of nowhere after I dumped him, unfortunately Red Two was in his way... I've never seen anything move like that before!"

"Where's the target?" Kim asked urgently. "Did it disintegrate in the collision?"

"I don't know…" Red One reported. "I'm not picking it up on my radar… Oh wait, there it is! It's below me and veering away!"

"Do you see Red Two's 'chute?" Kim asked in concern.

"Hang on, yes, yes I see a 'chute!" Red One called back. "I'm turning back in pursuit!"

"Good," Kim breathed a sigh of relief. She signaled Agent Coutier to call in the pick-up crew. Whoever was responsible for this was definitely going to pay.

"Kim!" Ron's voice was starting to sound hoarse from yelling her name.

"Oh god, sorry Ron, it's just that I'm handling an emergency here!" Kim apologized as she raised the phone back to her ear. "I'll…"

"Kim! Listen to me!" Ron's voice screamed through the phone. "Stop firing! It's me!"

"What do you mean it's you?" Kim asked suspiciously.

"It's me! That object that your planes are shooting at is me!" Ron howled in desperation. "Call them off!"

"So you do have tech out there!" Kim's eyes narrowed, as she felt a strange new desire to throttle the life out of her best friend for lying to her.

"Not exactly!" Ron blabbed breathlessly. "It's actually me! I'm actually out there in a suit! Your men just pumped me full of lead! Call them off!"

"Oh god," Kim gasped as she realized what her friend was up to. Turning to her agents, she ordered, "Call Red One off, _now_. Return to base, we're breaking pursuit."

"But sir…" Agent Coutier started to speak.

"Just do it," Kim barked quickly. "It's out of restricted airspace anyway. And there's no way that we can take it down without endangering more than we already have..."

"Right," Agent Coutier radioed in the orders.

"Ron," Kim turned her attention back to the phone conversation at hand. With an icy tone, she spoke, "I just called them off. You have a lot of explaining to do."

"Ah, right, Kim, thanks," Ron sheepishly replied between deep breaths. "Meet you at my place in four hours?"

"You'd better count on it," Kim growled angrily as she slapped her phone shut.

"Ma'am!" a junior agent called out as she rushed over with a printout in hand. "This was taken just before the bogey went out of visual range by the army Global Hawk..."

Kim looked at the printout, scowling as she did so. The super high definition image showed a gold and red armored man, with lead smears from bullets, dents and pockmarks on its shell, but otherwise unharmed. It was flying with feet angled back and arms pointed back, the unmistakable glow of Stoppable Enterprises high energy repulsors visible on the hands and feet. _Yeah, you definitely have a lot of explaining to do for almost killing yourself!_ Kim thought to herself, her angry scowl being replaced by a livid glare, as if she were trying to crumple the paper with her eyes alone.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

Woot! Back online! After two weeks? Has it been two weeks? Have I been profusely apologizing in my replies to reviews? Has the world changed so much in so little time?

Action's picking up, and there doesn't seem to be any change in Ron yet. I mean, after his revealing conversation with Monique, he doesn't seem to want to put much thought into it, and instead in his own reckless manner went ahead and did whatever he liked. I don't know, he's kinda like a kid with a new toy. But I think it's time for Ron to meet Kim, and perhaps, I think this argument is going to be epic.

So I was sort of wondering if the action was alright? Coz I tried to keep this one short, it barely reached 4k words. It might be a little closer to the movie, but then I tried to put it from a different perspective. So here's to hoping that would work better rather than lengthy descriptions (much to the chagrin of the hidden military nerd in my beta, kgs-wy).

And of course when Hurricane Kim makes landfall…


	7. Chapter 7

Monique found herself once again at the doorstep of Ron's mansion. Picking up yet another old newspaper on his front doorstep, she unlocked the front door and let herself in. Hefting the little package under her arm, she again left the newspaper on the small side table in the landing. Calling out to her boss, she headed towards the workshop where, no doubt, he'd be... Working on whatever secret project that had gotten him too occupied to even care about his friends.

"Ron? You here?" Monique called out, as she stepped into his workshop. The place looked like it had not been cleaned in a long time. His pile of scrap electronics lay untouched by the door, and his table was strewn with blueprints. "Ron?"

"Over here!" a breathless voice wheezed out from behind his workbench.

"Ron?" Monique was startled. She immediately placed the package on the table and ran over to the sound of his voice. The sight of her boss slumped against his workbench caused her to pause for a moment, as her blood ran cold. "Oh my god, Ron... What the hell... Are those bullet holes?"

"Oh those?" Ron smiled weakly as he winced to sit up a little. "Yeah... Those F-37s are no joke... Sure beats having a missile smacking me over the head."

"Ron!" Monique screeched. "Stop joking! What the hell happened to you? And what is this? What are you wearing? Oh god, I should call an ambulance."

"Wait up, Monique," Ron grabbed her arm, taking care not to crush her with the suit's strength. "I'm fine, just bruised a little. I'm not Swiss cheese yet. Here, lend me a hand and help me get this thing off..." Ron gestured at the suit of armor encasing his entire body.

"Wait... How..." Monique gaped. "Do I need to cut you out with an electric saw?"

"Just reach to the side here, find the little hidden button and press it," Ron gestured tiredly. "Yeah... Just like that."

Monique lifted off the forearm guard, and breathed a sigh of relief when the rest of Ron's left gauntlet slipped off. "God, Ron, what is this? What... Never mind, I have so many questions that I don't know where to start. You better just start explaining, starting with the suit..." she ordered him.

"I had this idea for this suit when I was in Afghanistan," Ron began as he flexed his hands, relieved to feel the cool air wash over his skin. "This was how I escaped. I built a suit, not as advanced as this, but the principles are the same. By polarizing the external hull, I made it resistant to bullets and other conventional weapons..."

"Doesn't look like it works," Monique remarked sarcastically, as she glance at the three inch wide dents in the chest-piece.

"Heh," Ron grinned wryly. "It was a really big gun. But eh, I'm still alive, aren't I?"

"Right," Monique remarked as she slid off the upper armguard and started working on his right arm. "Are you crazy? What the hell did you just do?"

"You know how I said I was going to destroy all of my weapons that have fallen into the wrong hands?" Ron asked. "Yeah, I just came back from Afghanistan, found a whole cache of my stuff and blew them up."

"You were just in Afghanistan?" Monique's eyes opened wide. "How... Wait... How did you get there and back so fast?"

"The suit flies," Ron grinned in pride. "I flew there, took out a few terrorists and a tank and flew back..."

"It flies?" Monique repeated in awe. "Wow... Wait a minute, you took out a tank?"

"Yeah, except that on the way back, I ran into Global Justice, and they thought I was a hostile and attacked me..." Ron grunted as he helped Monique lift off the heavy chest piece, showing his bare chest and the arc reactor embedded in it. Ron sat up, free of his personal confines and stretched his limbs.

"Oh god, Ron! You could have been killed!" Monique exclaimed.

"The thought never occurred to me," Ron shrugged, as he reached down and unlocked the lower parts of his armor.

"My god, Ron," Monique glared at him. "What are you trying to do? What are you trying to prove? Ron, are you... Don't tell me you took my words too seriously and are trying to get back into the world saving business?"

"I'm just trying to make up for my past mistakes," Ron shrugged nonchalantly. "I still don't know how my weapons got into those hands. I'm suspecting that someone at Stoppable Enterprises must be involved. But at least _those_ weapons won't be used to kill anyone anymore."

"God... Ron... I..." Monique clenched and unclenched her fingers angrily. "I could just so hit you..."

"What? I thought you'd approve of what I'm doing," Ron looked at her mystified. "I thought you hated the fact that I'm making weapons."

"Yes! No!" Monique growled in frustration. "But what I meant was you should just stop making weapons! Not become some foolhardy hero trying to get himself shot up!"

"It's too late for that!" Ron raised his voice. "I realized not only must I stop making new weapons, but I must also destroy the ones out there already!"

"Why you?!" Monique asked as she threw her hands up. "From the looks of it, you almost got yourself killed out there today. And you want to go and do it again? And how on Earth do you plan to do it exactly? Upturn every single rock and stone out there in the world looking for your weapons?"

"Oh, that's where you're going to help me," Ron sported an annoying grin, as he struggled to get out of his leg-guards and boots. "Just get me all the shipping manifestos from my computer in my office. Plus anything else you can dig up, secret files, encrypted documents..."

"Hold it, Ron!" Monique yelled at him. "There's no way that I'm going to help you kill yourself! Sure, if you want to do this to annoy Kim or just mess with her head, it's completely fine with me. But if you just want to get yourself killed, I'm not going to help you."

"Please, Monique?" Ron replied earnestly. "This is important to me!"

"Why?" Monique asked. "Why is this so important to you?"

"Because... I made a mistake before with Stoppable Enterprises," Ron hung his head low. "I'm just trying to fix it now..."

"Why?" Monique asked. "Why you?"

"Because I can," Ron replied with a sigh. "And because I must."

Monique eyed him carefully as she helped him to his feet and over to his chair by the computer table. Glancing over his lean torso, she noted that he was sporting more than a few sizable bruises that were starting to darken from blue to purple. "Ron..." Monique asked him. "Tell me one thing honestly first. Does any of this have something to do with Kim? Are you doing this to prove something or repair some frail male ego?"

Glancing back at Monique, he looked at her for a moment, before he replied seriously. "No, it's just something I want to do. For myself. Kim has nothing to do with this."

Searching his face for any sign of dishonesty or deceit, Monique could only find his face looking back at hers in earnest. With a loud sigh, she said grudgingly, "There's no point arguing with you, is there? You're going to do this anyway, whether I help you or not. But Ron, I want you to promise me one thing. If you ever involve yourself in something crazy like this ever again, I want to know before you act, okay? You know I'm your voice of reason, and if you ever considered me a friend, you'll talk to me before you do it, 'kay?"

Looking at her with a genuine smile, unlike the ones he flashed for all the tabloids, he nodded his head. "Yeah, I promise." Glancing over at the package on the table, he asked her, "So what'd you bring me this morning?"

"It's a gift," Monique replied coldly. "I thought you could use cheering up, but after giving me a heart attack like that, I don't think you deserve it."

"Aww... C'mon," Ron pleaded jokingly.

"I guess since this is the first time you actually cared for someone else other than yourself..." Monique narrowed her eyes at her boss. "This might be more than appropriate..."

"What is it?" Ron asked, as Monique placed the package in his hands. Shaking it slightly, he started tear off the brown packaging. "Woah..."

"Yeah," Monique glanced at the small glass case that held Ron's old arc reactor. It was set inside a ring with the words printed in large bold letters on the rim, 'Proof That Ron Stoppable Has a Heart'. "Yeah, it's a private joke among your employees... You are the typical cold industrialist without a heart."

"Ah..." Ron broke out in a wide smile. "I guess it fits."

"Yeah," Monique nodded as she gave Ron one final look-over. "So, everything's alright, right?"

Just as Ron was about to reassure her for the last time, a loud thundering voice echoed down the steps to the workshop. "Ronald Francis Stoppable! You better be there!"

"Oh god," Ron looked aghast at Monique. "Kim's here."

"Kim?" Monique raised a curious eyebrow.

"Yeah, remember those F-37s that tried to shoot me down?" At his words, Monique nodded her head. Ron continued sheepishly, "Yup, those are GJs... And I... Ah... Well, one of them collided into me. I think she's here to collect the bill..."

"Oh..." Monique nodded as she bit her lower lip. "Ron, whatever punishment she dishes out on you, you do know that I'm on her side, and that you totally deserve it."

"Thanks Monique," Ron made a face at her as he sarcastically quipped. "I knew I could count on you."

"Anytime, Mr. Stoppable," Monique smiled sweetly, before turning towards the stairs. She called out, "Down here Kim!"

There was a thundering of footsteps before Kim raced down the steps and came to face a cringing Ron and a smirking Monique. "Monique..." Kim gritted her teeth the moment she saw her best friend.

"Hey, woah, chill, Kim..." Monique replied quickly, as she noticed the dark look on her best friend's face. "Just so you know, I only found out about a minute ago... Ron's been keeping secrets from me too."

"Sellout," Ron mumbled underneath his breath, as he gave Monique a dirty glare.

"I think I'll go do that thing you just asked me to do now," Monique grinned, as she backed away from her boss. "I think you two need some alone time..." As she walked by Kim, she placed a hand on her shoulder and spoke, "Hey... Be gentle on the guy okay? Yell at him all you want, but he did get peppered by one of your planes recently..."

Kim only nodded mutely, continuing her furious glare at Ron.

Ron's heart seized in panic, as he realized that his 'faithful' personal assistant was making her way towards the door, and leaving him all alone to bear the full brunt of the red-head's wrath. "Monique! Come back!" he called out after her in desperation. But the clicking of her heels as she walked on upstairs showed that she paid him no attention. With a defeated sigh, he finally turned to face Kim, trying to look as remorseful as possible.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!" Kim exploded at him. It was more of a statement than a question. She was clearly trying her best not to give him a good slap across his face.

"Saving the world?" Ron joked meekly, as he sported a smile.

"How is _that_ saving the world?" Kim continued yelling at him. "You just throw yourself into a hot zone, blow things up and _then_ you destroyed one of my jets!"

"If it's about the jet, I can write you a check..." Ron offered submissively. "It's no big deal, right? The pilot survived, I made sure of that."

"What are you talking about?" Kim asked suspiciously.

"He barely had time to eject, and was unconscious..." Ron explained slowly. "His chute didn't auto-deploy, so I pulled parachute's emergency handle for him..."

"You?" Kim's jaw opened in surprise.

"Heh, yeah... I wasn't going to let that guy die because of me..." Ron replied sheepishly.

"That still doesn't excuse you," Kim grumbled. "What about the village? There are civilian lives down there! You just can't go down there and blow things up!"

"Kim, Kim, Kim..." Ron shook his head with a smirk gracing his features. "I'm not new to this, you know? I made sure the people were safe, knocked out all the terrorists that I could, and destroyed their weapons..." His brow furrowed for a moment before he continued more somberly, his tone honestly remorseful, "Though a few, unfortunately, I had to kill..."

Kim's eyes narrowed at the remark. She barely bit back a harsh remark when she saw the remorse in his eyes, the same remorse he had during their high school graduation... "Show me this suit of yours," she ordered coldly instead.

"Right over there," Ron gestured lazily with his hand. "Sorry if I don't get up... I'm just a little tired..."

Walking around the workbench to see the suit of armor that Ron had worn, a small gasp escaped her lips. She bent down cautiously and studied the chest-piece that was riddled with bullet holes. Reality struck her as she traced a particularly large dent made by a bullet that almost penetrated the armor. "Ron... You were shot..." those words escaped her lips in a whisper.

"Heh, courtesy of your guys," Ron grinned wryly.

"I thought that the pilot was seeing things when he said he shot you..." Kim replied weakly, as she set the dented piece of armor on the workbench. Looking up at her blond friend, she spoke, "Ron, you could have died ..."

"I try not to let that bother me," Ron remarked lightly.

Cautiously, Kim walked over to his side and got on one knee as she touched his arm lightly. Peering at the colorful bruises on his body, she asked, "Are those..."

"Yeah," Ron shrugged. "Suit doesn't stop those kind of bullets that easily..."

Tracing a finger over an ugly purplish one, she looked up at him to ascertain that he was fine. When she saw him smirking at her, a sense of outrage swept over her, and she jabbed her finger roughly into a large purplish bruise. To her satisfaction, Ron's face instantly screwed up in pain as he howled and flinched away from her.

"Kim!" Ron yelled at her, as he rubbed his irritated bruise. "What was that for?"

"That was for making me worried," Kim spoke quietly. Almost pleadingly, she asked of him, "Don't ever, ever do that again."

"Do what?" Ron asked.

"Put on that suit and play hero ever again," Kim ordered sternly.

"Kim... You don't have to worry about me," Ron placed a hand on her shoulder reassuringly. "We've done stuff like this before. Remember you and Wade's power suit? This is just a far more awesome upgrade..."

"Dammit Ron, don't you ever listen to me?" Kim raised her voice angrily. "Do you realize that you almost got yourself killed out there? If you didn't tell me that it was you out there, I would have scrambled more fighters after you to shoot you down at all cost..."

"But you didn't," Ron pointed out dismissively. "I'm alright, so everything's chauncy."

"Ron, you can't live by the skin of your teeth!" Kim protested. "We got out of the hero business a long time ago... Now leave it to the professionals."

"One, Kim, _I_ got out of the hero business... Now you administer other people in it." Ron said in a slightly heated tone. He clamed himself with a deep breath and continued in a more controlled tone, "And two... I can't do that, Kim," Ron shook his head. "This is my problem, and I'm not letting someone else clean up my mess."

"What are you talking about, Ron?" Kim asked.

"I'm talking about my weapons..." Ron replied tiredly. "My weapons that have fallen into the wrong hands. Something went wrong with Stoppable Enterprises, and we're also selling weapons to the wrong guys!"

"Let Global Justice handle it!" Kim cried. "That's what we're for!"

"But how effective have you been in dealing with this?" Ron riposted hotly, "I'm fairly certain you've known about our guys finding our weapons in their hands! Like you said, that village has been marked as a weapons depot for the terrorists for months! What has Global Justice done about it? Nothing!"

"Global Justice has many other pressing issues to handle!" Kim replied angrily. "Our resources are already spread too thin! We can't simply send in a team in whenever we feel like!"

"You can't! But I can!" Ron shot back. "Don't you remember why you created Team Possible in the first place? You did it to help people! Even though there were always other people who could do the job, you stood up to do it because you could! And without the bureaucratic red tape too!"

"But that's different!" Kim argued back. "That was a long time ago! Things weren't so dangerous back then!"

"C'mon Kim! I know I can do this!" Ron replied. "I know times have changed and the bad guys have stepped up a lot in a really bad way! But I've stepped up too! I have that!" He pointed at the chest-piece on the workbench.

"Stepped up, huh?" Kim closed her eyes as she uttered those words. She couldn't shake the dry feeling in her mouth. "Ron, if this is about us breaking up a long time ago..."

"No it's not!" Ron shouted. "Why do you have to think that everything is about you? Kim, that was such a long time ago..."

"But are you over it?"

Ron shook his head as he allowed himself a mirthless laugh. "See Kim? That's your problem... You are so conceited that you have to think that everything is about you. It's not... I swear I'm completely over you..."

Kim bit her lower lip hard, as she tried to stop herself from shouting back at him. "Ron. Stop it, no more games this time, okay? This is serious."

"What? I'm not playing any..." a cross look from Kim ended any possible protest on his lips. Ron let out a soft sigh.

"So is this part of your grand scheme of things to impress me and win me back?" Kim asked. "You know, just like the double PhDs, the multibillion dollar company and women like Bonnie?"

"Heh, just so you know about Bonnie..." Ron looked away guiltily. "Just so you know, she hit on me first. And it was a one-time thing."

"What about all the other women?" Kim narrowed her eyes.

"They... Ah... I got nothing," Ron admitted. "Kim, to be honest, I don't get you. I don't get why we broke up. For some reason you're not happy with me... And I don't know why... And after I got my company, you still wouldn't take me back..."

Kim bit her lip in silence. "So this is just something you're doing just to get my attention..." Kim stated as a matter-of-fact. "Then I better suggest you give it up, because there's no way in hell I'd take you back just because you want to wage your own personal war. I just don't want to see you die."

"Not this, Kim," Ron replied slowly. "This isn't about you... Kim... I've never told anyone this, but do you know who I met down there in those caves that I was held in?"

Kim shook her head, her eyes never leaving his face.

"Hans Demenz, also known as Professor Dementor," Ron whispered his name. "He's the reason I got out alive..."

"But... He disappeared a long time ago," Kim gasped in surprise.

"Yeah, I know," Ron nodded his head. "He was down there, creating weapons for the bad guys, for seven straight years... As a prisoner... He's also the one who fixed this..." Ron indicated at the annular glowing device sticking out of his chest. "Maybe it's hard to explain... But I don't want to be like him... Constantly being forced to develop newer and better weapons... It turns out that all these people ever want is a bigger gun, or a smarter missile... It never ends... Seven years, Kim... Can you imagine being in a cave that long?"

"No..." Kim whispered as she started to realize what Ron went through.

"Kim, I started out Stoppable Enterprises with a noble goal... I thought if we built better weapons, then someday we will be able to stop all conflict..." Ron shook his head as he let out a hollow laugh. "How naïve... Especially since I'm building weapons for both sides..." Turning to look at Kim squarely in the eye, he asked, "That's the nature of the business, you know. Sell weapons to both sides. It keeps the army happy, it keeps the shareholders happy, but you know what? It doesn't keep the peace."

"But Global Justice needs your technology..." Kim replied unconvincingly.

"No it doesn't..." Ron shook his head. "Global Justice doesn't need high-explosive bullets or multiple-target tracking missiles. Hans got me to see what my weapons are actually doing; its impact on people. You know, Kim, I actually got hit by one of my own anti-personnel RPG... You think I want to build something like that again?"

"I guess not..."

"Kim, I'm afraid of waking up one day, and finding myself in Hans' position," Ron replied with a shiver in his voice. "One day, I'm going to find that Stoppable Enterprises is my cave, and all I've been doing is making weapons and killing people... And I'm a prisoner in my own company, unable to break free just because people expect me to keep on doing what I've been doing... Do you know Hans has been keeping score for me? The number of people killed by my weapons has far outnumbered the lives we've saved during our Team Possible years, not counting the Lorwardians... I don't want it to end like that..."

"But why do you need to go out there and put yourself in harm's way?" Kim asked. "Why do you need to put on that suit and... And..."

"Like I told Monique," Ron replied with conviction. "This is my mess and I'm going to clean it up. I can't let someone else do it. I can't sit back and let other people risk their lives because of what I've done. I can't trust anyone else with my technology, and I want to get it right this time."

With a sigh, Kim spoke, "If this is what you really want to do for yourself... I guess I can't stop you. But don't get yourself killed, okay? It's a dangerous world out there."

"I know, Kim," Ron replied softly. "And thanks for your concern."

"Right, I better go then," Kim nodded. "I still got paperwork to fill out. My superiors are going to want to know about the plane that we lost..."

"Hey Kim," Ron called to her, his hand shot out to grab her wrist as she turned away. "While we're being open and honest to each other, I want to hear it from you. Why did you break up with me?"

"Ron, we've already been through this..." Kim jerked her hand away, not turning to look at him.

"Kim, like you said, no more games," Ron replied evenly as he tried to discern some sort of reaction from her turned back.

"I..." Kim stiffly shrugged his hand off as she tonelessly replied. "Look, as I recalled, it wasn't me who broke up with you. I wasn't the one who took advantage of Tara just after she broke up with Josh."

"Ha, ha, ha, Kim..." Ron casually replied, drawing his hand back to his side. "We can both cut the crap, you know I didn't do anything other than talk to her for over two weeks... Besides, I know all about Dan."

"Who?"

"That guy you slept with, six months after you told me we were on a break. It was on your first date together. Palm Springs Discotheque? Ring any bells, Kim?" Ron raised his voice, even though he tried to restrained himself.

"I..." Kim glanced puzzledly at Ron. "Dan?"

"Whoo boy, this is rich," Ron snorted with a mock laugh. "You don't even remember _who_ you slept with!"

Kim whirled on Ron, delivering a withering glare straight to his face. "No, in fact, I clearly remember who I slept with. I have only slept with one man in my entire life, and he was the kindest, sweetest and most caring person in the whole world..."

"Oh, and who was that?" Ron asked with what seemed to be honest confusion on his face, "Unless you include actual sleeping in that, since you turned your nose up at the idea of sex with me, waiting 'til some hottie from GJ swept you off your fee-..."

Kim gritted her teeth, interrupting him with venom in her voice. "I don't care that you've _fucked_ half the women in Go City, I don't care that you've _fucked_ everyone on the Middleton High cheer team, and I _don't_ care that you _fucked_ my own cousin Joss! But if you think for a moment that I'm half as shallow as you..."

"Can the innocent act, Kim," Ron cut her off with a tired yawn. "We both know..."

"Oh yeah, Ron?" Kim drew up to her full height, as she stared at him straight in the eyes. "What do you know? I remember this Dan, alright, now that you brought it up! Dan Kenneths, he became a rookie the same year as me, and he's currently the regional head over in Europe. We went out once, and I insisted on a double date, because I didn't feel that I would betray you if I had Monique with me and made it a friendly date instead of an actual date..."

"Betray?" Ron's voice, despite his wishes otherwise, rose to an angry shout. "So Monique was a way to justify the way you fucked him on the dance floor?"

"I don't know who put those ideas into your head, Ron," Kim shook her head tiredly. "But I'm not even asking you to believe me. There was a time my word was good enough for you. You know what, Ron? I didn't believe it when people told me that you were sleeping around. I didn't believe it even when Tara said that she'd slept with you. I kept thinking to myself, not my Ron. All you had to do was deny all of it, and I would have accepted your word. But when I confronted you, your eyes said it all."

"Oh please, Kim," Ron half-shouted as he ridiculed her. "You can take the moral high ground all you want, but you and I are alike; we sleep with whoever we please, and face it, you're a slut as much as..."

Before he could finish the sentence, a jarring blow struck his left cheek, and left him a little dazed. Raising his hand to nurse his injured cheek, Ron let a mirthless smirk curl on his lips. "What? Too close to the truth for you?" he taunted Kim who was standing there, clenching her fists, trying to quell the furious tempest within her.

When she didn't respond, he straightened himself up, gingerly walking over to his workshop computer. Tapping a few keys and accessing his encrypted files, he opened up a clip that he'd wished he'd never seen in his entire life. Swiveling the monitor around to show Kim, he raised an eyebrow as he announced quietly, "I honestly don't like doing this, but... Face it, Kim: we can never hide from who we truly are..."

"That's not me." Kim said, her eyes wide and her voice shocked.

"Wha-?" Ron turned his head to glance at the screen in mock-surprise. "I think I'd know my own ex-girlfriend since pre-K... And now... That's her hiking her skirt up... Yup, there's the scars that sit just below your beltline, y'know, the ones only I'd seen before this night, since you got them in the invasion during our high school graduation? And... Yup! There's Dan... Right behind her, uh huh..."

"No, that's not me," Kim shook her head defiantly, bile and anger rising at what she saw on the screen.

"But..." Ron looked again, "Looks fine to me? Your hair's even the same way it is now, just a bit shorter..."

"I was wearing a wire on that date."

"Yeah, and that expression on your face… I have seen it so man-…" Ron stopped in mid-sentence and stared at her for a moment. "Whu-… What? You wore a what?"

"A wire, Ron," Kim sighed tersely. "A recording device… Right underneath my blouse. Where Dan would have found it almost immediately if we were…" Kim bit her lip as she spoke those words. "Engaging in sexual activity."

"Oh please!" Ron threw up his hands incredulously. "You'd just say anything to save your face, wouldn't you, Kim? You? A wire? Why on earth would you wear a wire to a date?"

"Because it wasn't a date. I… I'm not suppose to tell you this… I could lose my job and go to prison for telling you this… But Dr. Director wanted to make sure he was clean, because of something we dug up on his past. Found an entry visa to Pakistan years ago, but could be nothing," Kim shook her head. "So I simply had to get him drunk a bit, see how he loosens up and if anything spills, we got it on tape…"

"Hang on a god damned minute there!" Ron raised his voice angrily. "You expect me to believe that? C'mon, even Monique was there, you expect me to believe that that wasn't a real date?"

"Monique didn't know, she is a civilian after all," Kim shook her head. "Besides, it was a low risk mission. And I wanted Monique to come along because then it wouldn't feel like I was betraying you…"

"Betray me?" Ron hooted sarcastically. "I'm nobody's fool Kim! You can't just come here and make up some bullshit story about how going on a date was your mission. If that's the case, then I had a mission too. My mission was to make Tara forget about Josh, and I sure damn well did a good job with that…"

The pained look in Kim's face said it all. As much as he wanted to hurt her, Ron found his words twisting around and wrenching his own heart out of his chest. He gritted his teeth and averted his eyes, as he somehow felt ashamed of his words.

"Sorry, Ron," Kim shook her head with conviction. "This is one thing you _can't_ blame me for..." She turned around to walk away, trying not to let him see the tears building in her eyes.

"Hang on a minute," Ron jerked his head up and raised his voice in outrage. "You think you're completely blameless in this? Maybe you're right, and maybe that isn't you!" He stabbed his finger furiously at the computer screen. Taking a deep breath, he continued his tirade, "But like I said, you're the one who walked away from our relationship in the first place! You're the one who turned your back on us, so that you can go and pursue your dream of joining Global Justice! You threw me aside the moment you figured that I wasn't a part of your plans for the future!"

"Ron..." her tone spoke volumes as she hadn't the strength left to turn around and face him. "I have always wanted you to be a part of my life. To stand by my side and be strong for me. But you were... Addicted to me."

"What are you talking about?" Ron strained a fake laugh as he stared at her. "Addicted to you? You have got to be joking, you're even more full of yourself than I thought... Addicted to you..."

"No, you're wrong, Ron," Kim sighed as she tried to mask the emotion swelling in her voice. "When I'm with you, you always inspire the best in me. But you... You never seemed to want anything more than to be with me. Don't you get it, Ron? That's what the break from our relationship was supposed to be. To give you time to find something else to fill your life other than me."

"I don't get you, Kim," Ron began hesitantly. "I love you... Isn't that enough for you?"

"It's not enough for me..." Kim whispered. "Because I believe the man I love can be a lot more than he wants to be... You have no drive in life... Ron, I do appreciate you doing everything you can think of, short of sleeping with Bonnie, to prove that you are worthy... But that's not it... I never wanted a successful Ron, or a golden Ron, or a romantic Ron... I just wanted a Ron who cared for more than just himself..."

"But I do care for more than myself..." Ron caught a hitch in his throat. "I care for _you_..."

"There's that..." Kim remarked sadly. "But is that enough? Without me, who would you be Ron? If I died someday, what would happen to you? Would you also stop living?"

"I..." Ron felt his heart turn cold at her words. "Kim, why would you even ask something like that?"

"Ron, you don't know how happy I am to see you finally pick up a cause that you feel so strongly about," Kim spoke softly. "But it's too late, Ron. You broke my heart one too many times."

"And you didn't? Every time I tried to reconcile, you threw my so-called lack of drive in my face, and then that..." He pointed at the screen, then held up a finger to forestall any objections she may have come up with. "I know, it may not have been you, but... I was scared you'd accuse me of spying when I had nothing to do with it..."

He paused, realizing that bringing the video would be a weak challenge to her. He changed tactics, bearing himself to her, like he had only done once before, in a nameless storeroom at the Bueno Nacho headquarters. "Just one more chance, Kim," Ron asked tonelessly. He paused for a moment, before another word escaped his lips in a soft whisper. "That's _all_ I've ever wanted... Please?"

"I'm sorry... I'm just... I can't take the pain anymore..." Kim closed her eyes as she clenched her jaw.

Stepping up behind her, Ron wrapped his arms around her waist, and pressed his face against the back of her head, remembering once again her scent. To his surprise, she did not flinch away. "Kim..." he murmured softly. "I... I won't hurt you anymore..."

"You said that before." Kim objected, feeling his body stiffen behind her.

"Kim, I said that before..." He nodded his head backwards, knowing it was a weak defense. "That... Please... We've both wasted our lives... We've danced and danced around each other about this for too long. I don't want to spend another day without you, not anymore..." Ron's voice hitched a little, as he blinked back the tears, his face still buried in her silky red mane. "Kim... I love you..."

"I... I..." the words got caught in her throat, as she suddenly pulled away out of his warm embrace "I'm sorry, Ron," she whispered, as she half-walked, ran towards the lab door, leaving a Ron standing helplessly in his place.

She fled up the stairs, two steps at a time, the clack of her booted feet snapping him from his trance. His dazed mind not quite comprehending how he'd just let the most important thing in his life slip out of his grasp ordered his ineffective limbs into motion. His body lurched forward, dashing up the stairs and 

finding Kim leaning against the jamb of his front door. As she noticed him, she quickly fumbled for the knob to let herself out.

His whisper carried easily to her, stopping her in her tracks. "So, you'll walk out on me again, just like that..."

"Ron, I..." She began, but Ron's insistent whisper cut her off.

"Kim, what the Hell?" he asked, "Dammit, Kim, we both screwed up, okay? I should have come to you when I got the video, but I didn't…" he shook his head sadly, tears sliding down his cheeks. "But let's stop wasting time. Let's stop making any more decisions that we would regret. I don't think I can live another day without you. Please, Kim…"

"No…" a haunted whisper escaped her lips. Her voice quivered as she turned around, hiding her face from his gaze. "It's too late… I don't know you anymore…"

"What do you mean? I'm still me…"

"No… I just…" Kim shook her head slowly. Her knuckles whitened as she gripped the front door handle firmly, trying to tear herself away from everything that reminded her of him. "I just don't belong in your world of fast money, fast cars and fast women…" She twisted the cold metal object in her hands and pushed the front door open, not bothering to look back. It was just too painful…

"Kim!" Ron yelled out, his cry a gargled choke as he leaned against the door frame for support as he watched her fiery red mane bob out of his life again for the second time. "Kim!" He closed his eyes to try and stem the flowing tears, before sliding down onto the front porch, and listening to the screeching sound of tires, as they tore through his heart like a knife, and knowing that she was gone again.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

Yeah, finally, I think we have a clear picture of what had transpired between Kim and Ron. I kinda figured that's why she'd break up with him. Maybe it's her action speaking louder than words type of personality that made her take the drastic route. But I kinda empathize with Kim here. How does she tell Ron to do something like not listen to everything she says? I mean, she wants him to be his own person, but she can't exactly tell him that, can she? It's one huge catch-22. I think that's one of Ron's flaws. He's too eager to please her, and I guess that kinda bothered Kim a little?

And so this has been one angst filled drama chapter. Kinda what the whole story's been building up to. Okay, I confess a self-addition to angst. But then there's two kinds of angst. The good angst, and the angst-for-the-sake-of-angst bit. Maybe this is a bit of the latter, but hey, it was necessary to push Ron along this path, no? So yeah, the angst monster has attacked…

Anyway, still very busy with work life and all that. Writing has been sparse. I hope you'll bear with me, and I will see this story to the finish. As well as a few others. Plus a couple of oneshots in my head. Yeah… That's why replies to reviews have been painfully slow. I'm really sorry about that, but rest assured that I take each review seriously and I hope you'll put up with my schedule for a bit longer.


	8. Chapter 8

Monique decided to head over to Stoppable Enterprises office complex the next morning. Being a Sunday, the office was usually dead, and no one would dream of waking up early to come to work when Monday was just around the corner. She clutched a small flash drive in her hand, checking herself in the vanity mirror of her car. She sighed in exasperation as she realized that makeup could only do so much for her appearance, considering she hadn't slept more than a half hour after leaving Ron's mansion. Getting out of her car, she strode purposefully towards the entrance of Stoppable Enterprises corporate headquarters, nervously glancing over her shoulder just to check if anyone other than the security guards saw her.

She found her way to Ron's office at the top floor of the office complex, and with her own key, let herself in. She walked nervously over to his desk and gingerly set her purse and newspaper down next to the keyboard. With a gulp, she held the flash drive out in front of her eyes before plugging it into Ron's computer terminal.

Instantly, a small program opened the command line, executing various commands below the GUI level and inputting Ron's personal passwords. This allowed access to every single computer in Stoppable Enterprises, from email servers to the research and development supercomputers. Monique gaped at the access she had been given; literally every single file in every single computer in the complex, as well as over ninety-nine percent of the worldwide corporate intranet.

She quickly accessed the sales accounts and started transferring over the huge database of electronic transactions, ACH transfers and bill payments, and most importantly, scanned shipping invoices. While she was sifting through the immense amounts of data, she chanced upon an embedded ghost drive in the R&D department, which was tagged as only accessible from Dr. Lipsky's private terminal. Raising a curious eyebrow, and wondering how Ron's password had allowed access to it, she accessed those files. Blueprints flashed across the screen and her eyes grew wide in horror. With trembling hands, she drew her cell phone out from her purse and hit the speed dial.

"Excuse me, Monique?"

"Oh god!" Monique almost dropped her phone when she heard the voice. She looked up in fear at the speaker, and saw a tall blue-skinned man with a scar across his left eye standing in the doorway. "Oh, Mr. Lipsky..." she gulped, discreetly slipping her phone back in her purse. "I didn't hear you come in."

"I just wasn't expecting anyone to be in the office on Sunday," Drakken explained casually as he walked into the office. "What are you doing in Mr. Stoppable's office this early on a Sunday?"

"I... Ah..." a slight shiver ran down Monique's spine as she glanced at the monitor of Ron's computer out of the corner of her eye. The blueprints were just starting to download to the flash drive,so she had to stall Drakken until the download was complete. "Mr. Stoppable sent me to his office to pick up some things."

"Oh really?" Drakken asked curiously. "I was under the impression that Mr. Stoppable was still on vacation. What would he want with anything in his office?"

"Oh you know Ron," Monique gave him a gracious, long suffering smile. "He's always working, even when he's on vacation. I tell the guy that he should be relaxing on some beach on Cabo, but does he listen to me? No..." She snorted with honest humor, herself having recently tried to get Ron to do just that, and failing miserably, "He pays me to manage his personal life for him, and when I do try to do that, he tells me to butt out..."

"Ah..." Drakken interrupted her as he ambled amiably up to Monique, as his eyes curiously strayed across Ron's desk as though surveying Monique's actions. "That sounds very much like Mr. Stoppable. I hope he's recovering well from his ordeal in Afghanistan."

"Ron's in fine spirits," Monique nervously glanced down at the keyboard, and shifted a newspaper surreptitiously as to cover the incriminating flash drive plugged into the keyboard. "Yeah... He's... Doing fine, working on his pet projects, hopefully inventing something useful..." Monique flashed her best smile hoping to distract Drakken from her actions.

"Ah, I see," Drakken nodded absent-mindedly. "Anyway, what is it exactly that Ron wants? I might be able to..."

As Drakken started to walk around the desk to take a look at the incriminating screen, Monique panicked, but a small part of her crowed triumphantly as the file transfer flashed that it had finished. She quickly dropped a pen, or more accurately threw a pen, at Drakken's feet. "Whoops!" Monique exclaimed in mock surprise. "How clumsy of me!"

"Hmph," Drakken snorted as he bent over to pick up the piece of stationery. During that time, Monique quickly pulled out the flash drive, deposited it in her purse, and hit the screen saver key. "Here," Drakken said as he stood back up and offered the pen out to Monique.

"Thanks, Mr. Lipsky," Monique trembled slightly as she took the pen from him.

"It's no problem... Now about what Ron..."

"It's alright!" Monique exclaimed, as she stepped away from the desk, clutching her purse and newspaper tightly to her chest. "It was just his old day planner, which I guess he didn't' leave here, so... Anyway, I have to get Ron his daily Naco... It was nice seeing you, as always, Mr. Lipsky. See you around!"

"Oh?" Drakken looked in confusion at the woman who was walking briskly towards the elevator. "Wait, Monique!"

Monique could feel his piercing stare at the nape of her neck. Trembling as she turned around to face the blue-skinned man, she asked, "Yes?"

"Is that today's paper?" Drakken asked, indicating the periodical almost crushed in Monique's hands.

"Y... Yeah..." Monique stammered, half wondering if she should make a run for it.

"Can I have it?"

Monique blinked twice before she allowed herself a small sigh of relief. "Sure, Mr. Lipsky," she smiled as she walked up to him and left the paper on the desk. Before he could speak another word, she was already halfway out of there, and desperately mashing at the button for the elevator.

Drakken raised an eyebrow at the normally calm and collected woman. He stepped over to the computer terminal and hit a key which instantly called up the password input box. With a few guesses, he keyed in I-L-O-V-E-N-A-C-O-S. Instantly the screensaver vanished and his eyes bulged as he realized what was on the desktop. Cursing under his breath, he looked up to see if Monique was still there, but there wasn't even a glimmer of a shadow.

Marching quickly out of the office towards his lab, he reached into his coat pocket and picked up his cell phone and dialed.

* * *

Ron was knee-deep that morning in his workshop.

It was just his way of handling things.

Kim had walked out, never looked back and refused to return all his calls. Somehow, deep down inside, he knew he blew it with Kim a long time ago, and he admitted harshly, it was long before Kim **had** to lay down her 'tough love', as Monique had called it.

But he didn't want to think about it because the more he thought about it the more hopeless he admitted it to be. Maybe he could blame this all on Monique. Didn't she tell him to be honest?

Ron shrugged the emotions from his mind, and instead tinkered with the finer adjustments of his suit's gyroscopic sensors. It was just that at higher speeds above Mach 3, sometimes there would be a distracting tremor; while it was more of an annoyance than a critical failure, it could be bad news in an emergency, so he felt it best to fix it as a bit of preventative maintenance. But the suit was in almost pristine condition again, after all his major scuffle with Kim's F-37s.

Kim.

He sighed in annoyance as he struggled to push yesterday out of his mind. If only… He shook his head as he tried to fill his mind with calculations. _Now the repulsors should provide the most of the power, with the mini-repulsors maintaining stability through feedback from the main gyroscopic unit, and it should compensate immediately for the minor shocks and air turbulence…_

He quickly looked up from his work when the phone rang. Taking a leap over his chair, he grabbed the phone receiver sitting by his computer in a haphazard way, almost falling over and hitting his head against the edge of the table. "Hello, Kim?" he spoke into the phone a little too hastily.

"Ron, Monique here," a familiar but unwelcomed feminine voice sounded. "Were you expecting a call from Kim?"

"Oh, not at all," Ron tried to hide the disappointment in his voice. "So, 'Nique, what's up?"

"You know about the thing that you asked me to do?" Monique's voice trembled a little. "The thing with the shipping invoices?"

"Yeah?" Ron bit back a little more harshly than he intended.

"I got that and a lot more..." Monique gulped as she lowered her voice. "I was looking through Drew's files and I found a new project called 'Iron Monger', a video of the terrorists that captured you and some other stuff... He created it only a week ago. It's called the Iron Monger Project..."

Um... I haven't heard anything about that," Ron's eyes narrowed. "What is it?"

"You know your suit?" Monique asked quietly. "Yeah, it seems that Drew has the blueprints of your super-power suit… I don't quite understand what I'm looking at here, it looks like scans of some pencil drawn blueprints on old looking paper, and it had a bunch of writing on it… It's your handwriting, definitely…"

"I never gave Drew anything of the sort!" Ron raised his voice in an outrage. "Where did he get those blueprints?"

"I don't know..." Monique spoke in a low voice. "Maybe he got them off your computer at home or something... I don't know, Ron. The drawings look like your suit, but it's a completely horrible fashion disaster instead. The arms are too big, and the facemask is all wrong, and it looks like it can't fly at all, and the flamethrowers are so last season…"

"No," Ron insisted firmly. "There's no way he could have gotten anything off my computers here. It's completely isolated from the computers at the office. It's not even plugged into the Internet. There's no way he would be able to get a hold of my blueprints... Wait, did you say flamethrowers?"

"Yeah," Monique replied nervously. "What do you think it means?"

Ron cursed furiously under his breath. "My latest model doesn't have flamethrowers, Monique," he growled angrily. "I've chucked out heavy weaponry like that ever since I got back to the States. The only time I ever had flamethrowers was with that suit I made in Afghanistan... I left my blueprints for my original suit when I escaped… Oh shit, how the hell did Drew get his hands on those?"

"Does this mean that Global Justice or Drew somehow managed to defeat the terrorists and recover all your weapons including your blueprints?" Monique asked hopefully.

"No..." Ron gritted his teeth. "Kim would have told me if Global Justice launched an operation like that. Drew couldn't have hired a private army to take them out, he didn't even know the blueprints were there... Unless..." Ron slammed his fist on the table.

"What?" Monique asked worriedly.

"Unless the terrorists gave it to him!" Ron growled.

"That's not possible!" Monique exclaimed. "Why would the terrorist give something like that to Drew?"

"It all makes sense now," Ron rubbed his temples as he clenched his teeth. "He's the one selling my weapons to the terrorists! That's how they got all my weapons! That bastard's been double-dealing! He's got enough corporate access to hide all the paperwork!"

"Are you sure?" Monique asked cautiously. "That's a really big accusation..."

"It has to be!" Ron half-shouted. "It's the only explanation that makes sense! How else would he have gotten hold of my blueprints without my knowledge? And this Iron Monger project... It's probably some sort of new project to build suits like mine to sell to the military! I won't allow this! This is not a weapon to be sold to the public! It's too dangerous!"

"Calm down, Ron," Monique hissed. "What do we do about it?"

"Call Wade," Ron replied. "You're going to call Wade and inform him about Drew's... _Drakken's_ actions... And then get a hold of Kim. You will need her help to arrest _Drakken_ in his lab."

"Right," Monique agreed. "What about you?"

"I'm going to get my suit ready for action," Ron replied grimly. "_Drakken_ might already have a working prototype and it's going to take a lot more than a squad of Global Justice agents to bring him down. I just never thought he'd return to his old ways..."

"Me too, Ron," Monique quietly replied. "Alright, I'll call you back later, okay?"

"Alright," Ron replied, before putting down his phone. Standing there for a moment, he realized that everything had suddenly made sense. Drakken had sold his weapons to the terrorists, and now he was somehow in league with them, and they probably hoped that giving him the blueprints would make him so grateful that he'd make suits for them. That would explain why Drakken was so opposed to him shutting down the weapons division of Stoppable Enterprises.

Shaking his head, he decided to grab a quick bite in the kitchen before resuming work on his suit. It needed to be in the best possible condition if he was going to go up against a potentially improved version of his older prototype.

* * *

Wade had gotten a disturbing call from Monique, detailing the whole Drakken sitch and Ron's suspicions. His immediate course of action would be to go and confront Ron. He'd told Monique that Ron's accusations were ludicrous, almost dismissing them and the chocolate skinned woman immediately. However, Monique had been adamant about it and she was going to bring in Global Justice agents. Wade almost seized in panic, pointing out the possible scandal if the news broke out that an employee at Stoppable Enterprises was dealing with the terrorists.

Knowing that Monique only listened directly to her boss, Wade knew exactly where this massive PR problem was coming from.

"Ron," Wade yelled out angrily the moment he stepped into Ron's house. "Where the _Hell_ are you?"

"Over here," Ron called back, as he poked his head out of the kitchen to glance over at Wade. "Yeah?"

"You got some nerve," Wade instantly shot out angrily. "Calling GJ to arrest Drakken like that? You don't have any proof!"

"I got all the proof I need," Ron argued hotly. "How else would Drakken get those blueprints?"

"I don't know! But the evidence that he's dealing with the terrorists is purely circumstantial!" Wade replied angrily. "That is some bold claim that you are making..." Ron opened his mouth to interrupt, but Wade continued hotly, "You have been doing things like this on your own for far too long! Do you know what you are costing this company, Ron? You're supposed to be on vacation, and this is the kind of bullshit you are pulling? It's no wonder that the board is filing an injunction against you..."

"Injunction?" Ron's eyes opened wide. "What injunction?"

"They are claiming that you are unfit to make decisions," Wade replied sternly. "And I agree with them!"

"What? Just because I decided to make the moral decision? It's my company, I'm the majority shareholder, I do what I want with it!" Ron shouted out.

"Ron! They have the right to do so! They have minority shareholder rights!" Wade argued. "Besides, your actions ever since you've been back have only been costing the company money!"

"We've been through this before, Wade," Ron sighed loudly. "I don't want to make weapons anymore!"

"Ron! Listen to me!" Wade argued back. "If we don't do it, someone else will! So while we're in that position, we can do a lot of good in the world! Look at our initiatives to combat world poverty, which have reduced violence _significantly_! Or our advanced technologies to provide clean water to ten percent of the world's population! Or our medical diagnostic machines that can be carried out on the field to diagnose a variety of diseases from cholera to diphtheria! We are doing _good_ with this, you can't let it go to waste!"

"But at what cost, Wade?" Ron shouted. "Human lives! We aren't solving conflicts by making weapons, we're only worsening them. We aren't ending any problems; instead we are arming soldiers so that they become more efficient killers. That's where the money comes from: it's blood money, Wade! Don't you think that we have enough blood on our hands already?"

"We're not the one firing the weapons, Ron!" Wade reminded him tersely. "Guns aren't what kill people! People kill people! There will always be weapons, Ron! Don't be naïve!"

"Then we've got to stop making weapons for people to fire! This is turning into another arms race. Do you want another Cold War to blow up in our faces?" Ron replied angrily.

"If that's the case, shouldn't we be in this business?" Wade raised his voice. "Look, Ron, time out for a moment here. Drew's not a problem. We should question where he got those blueprints at our own discretion, not sic Global Justice on him."

"He's dangerous!" Ron pointed out hotly. "He's got my blueprints, and for all we know he is making tons of those things right now and selling them to the highest bidder! That man is out of control."

"No, Ron," Wade shook his head sadly. "The one who is out of control here is you. I can't reason with you anymore."

"What? No, Wade, look, this is an unapproved project and we should..." Ron's voice failed as he felt a strange tingling across his body. His joints started to lock up and he began to fall backwards to the floor. His back hit the edge of the couch and his body instantly folded as he slumped there at the foot of the couch. Wincing in pain was the most he could do. His body was no longer responding to his brain. He looked furtively at Wade, as though pleading for help with his eyes.

"Ron, Ron..." Wade shook his head with a sad smile as he reached up to his ears and pulled out two very tiny earplugs. "It's remarkable what you have invented so far in your life. The auditory incapacitator was a brilliant invention, albeit lacking in its non-directional area of effect." He smiled wryly as he tapped his ears. "To think, you were the first person in literally decades of research to make a high frequency device that disrupts the neural pathways in the conscious, gross motor control centers of the brain..."

Ron's eyes widened as he looked up helplessly at Wade. His eyes seemed to scream "Why?" as he tried to futilely force his limbs to obey him.

"Don't worry, Ron," Wade chuckled. "You'll regain full body function in an hour. But I'm sorry to say that you won't even last that long." He bent over and tore Ron's shirt apart, leaving the arc reactor embedded in Ron's chest exposed for the world to see.

"Ahh..." Wade smiled as he gazed at the glowing blue device. "Such beauty... Ron, do you know what was lacking in your blueprints? The designs for _this_! Drew needed a working model to finish his version of the arc reactor... Raza, you remember him, don't you? Your captor couldn't find anything about the arc reactor, and so he has outlived his usefulness. Sure, we have a large arc reactor right in our factory complex, but this... Miniaturization on this scale is simply beyond Drakken. He was unable to replicate one of these, which is why Project Iron Monger has run into some difficulties and is facing some really nasty overruns."

Wade reached down and gingerly unscrewed the device from Ron's chest. As his deft fingers worked, Wade continued amiably, "It's a shame Raza didn't kill you in Afghanistan. I had hoped he would... Especially after the details of your convoy were leaked to him... He was supposed to make sure you wouldn't come home..."

Ron's eyes bulged out of his head as he tried to gasp words out using his lungs. He blinked twice at his former best friend and long-time partner in Stoppable Enterprises, uncomprehending what was happening. The blatant betrayal by Wade and Drakken, two of his best partners and friends, taking place before his very eyes was almost as painful as Kim walking out the prior night.

"However, you proved to be much more tenacious than anyone expected!" Wade grinned as he pulled the device out of Ron's chest, disconnecting the wires. The pain receptors in Ron's chest were engulfed in fire as his mind screamed out in pain. Slowly, but surely, the thousands of slivers of memory metal in his chest began worming their way deeper into him, searching out the source of the constant, rhythmic thumping that was the heart. The systemic overload the slivers caused quickly spread out over his chest, then radiated out into more of his body, almost making him pass out.

"Imagine my surprise" Wade continued, his tone shocked and almost thankful, "When, during your miraculous escape, you had a chance to breathe new life into Stoppable Enterprises weapons division! All with this latest invention of yours... You are truly the goose that lays the golden eggs, and from your ashes, you deliver to us one final golden egg: the Iron Monger Project! Even though you've been getting out of hand for a while, now..."

Ron blinked in confusion as he shut his eyes to focus on dulling the pain in his body. His muscles felt like they were being ripped and torn from his bones.

"Ron, Ron, Ron," Wade laughed, as he watched the man before him suffer, trapped in his own body. "Thank you for all you have done, I am sure that Stoppable Enterprises will rise higher and further, inspired by the death of its founder. It has been an honor working with you, and I hope you enjoy the afterlife. Now, there's a certain nosey personal assistant and a team of Global Justice agents that'll need taken care off. It's a pity; she grew up to be quite the babe after all these years."

With that, Wade Load hefted the miniaturized arc reactor in his hand, and without a care in the world, and a little bounce in his step, walked away from the cringing, incapacitated man in pain without looking back once. "I hope you don't mind me delivering your final eulogy, Ron. Don't worry, I'll say nice things and I'll make sure Kim gets the best seat at the funeral… I _do_ have quite a lot to thank her for," Wade remarked with a cryptic smile. "After all, none of this would have happened if she hadn't broken up with you!"

Ron could only glare furiously at the back of the man as he made his way out of the house, his raucous laughter slowly dying in the distance. He could not scream for help, he could not move to reach his phone; he was trapped in his own body. The flaring pain in his body was intensifying as he felt his chest being ripped to shreds. His breath became shallower and perspiration dripped from his forehead.

From his own research, he knew that most, if not all of the shards were too small to get sucked into any artery smaller than the femoral artery, so he wasn't worried about a sliver getting into his bloodstream until they reached his heart proper. After that, of course, they'd tear apart any capillary they got into, causing hemorrhaging throughout the body, leading to a quick, and by his personal experience, painful death. That fact aside, about fifteen percent of the slivers would stop when they reached the pericardium or pleura, the linings of the heart and lungs respectively. That would cause inflammation of those sacks, which would lead to certain death for someone too far from a medical center equipped to deal with such disorders, or someone like him, who didn't expect anyone to be by his home in the next several hours.

He was a dead man, one way or the other. Out of options, Ron could do the only thing he had not done since he was a child: he prayed.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

Okay, so I missed my self-imposed deadline for Sunday. That makes me a bad writer. Oh wait, that actually makes me a good writer. After all, don't all good writers procrastinate and always miss their deadlines?

Okay, hang on a minute while I put the ego-monster back where it belongs.

This chapter reads way differently from the previous one. While emotions are running high in the previous one, this one is kinda straightforward and mostly explanations. I guess that's because I left out too many things in previous chapters. But it sort of has that feeling of the proverbial stuff hitting the ceilings?

Maybe this is what chapters are like if I shift gears too fast.

But at least things are going down! Monique's walking in to a trap, Wade and Drakken have betrayed him, and after the previous chapter with Kim, who's left to rescue Ron? Alright, that's a rhetorical question, but anyway, I did hope to illicit some feelings of dread here. Just a couple more bunnies to pull out of my hat, and the story's almost over.


	9. Chapter 9

"Ron?" Kim called out as she stood at his doorway. Peering into his house, she feared the worst: the fact that the front door was unlocked was bad enough, but the knickknacks and detritus of life Ron had collected were knocked aside haphazardly. Although this added weight to the accusations Monique had mentioned, Kim couldn't shrug the possibility that this was all a setup by Ron. It was simply too wild to believe; what Monique had said made the red-head question the woman's sanity with a bizarre tale that Ron was having suspicions about his premier employee, Drew Lipsky.

Kim had almost questioned Monique's sanity aloud when she had explained that Drakken had masterminded a lot of the illicit weapons trade stemming from Stoppable Enterprises. Monique had been so insistent about it that Kim decided to follow her best friend's hunch and send a squad of Global Justice agents with her to apprehend Drakken. She, on the other hand, felt that she needed more than just a wild hunch and decided to look for Ron to get some answers out of that stubborn jack-ass fool.

She couldn't shake her suspicions that this was a wild attempt of Ron's to try to speak to her. After all, she had not bothered to reply to his seven voice messages yesterday, nor even listen to the seven he'd sent in the last half hour marked 'urgent'. After all, she was going to his house to have a face to face chat about Drakken, so why bother answering Ron's pleas to talk things out? She'd tried that before with no success, and she didn't understand why he'd believe there was a chance of that now.

Besides, this would just be the sort of thing Ron would do just to get her to talk to him again. And to pull Monique meant that he had stooped to a new low, to use her best friend against her. But after pushing her feelings aside she decided that Ron deserved better. Her mind went through the list of facts again.

Monique had been convinced of Drakken's guilt. She was more adamant about arresting Drakken than Kim speaking to Ron. And Monique had always been on her side. Together they had spent many nights agreeing that Ron was a big jerk and tearing apart whatever latest floozy conquest that was sleeping in his bed. And while the accusation that Drakken was working with the terrorists was so outlandish that Kim wasn't even sure that she would believe it, the truth was often stranger than fiction.

Front he beginning of her suspicions, though, a part of Kim hoped that this _wasn't_ something that Ron pulled just to get her attention; that would just be deplorable and she would never speak to him again. Which, if Kim were honest with herself, she really did want to do... At least when she finally calmed down about the accusations and video Kim felt that Ron had paid someone to make. Then again, Kim sighed, the alternative seemed so much bleaker.

"Ron?" she called out again as she stepped deeper into his house. There were no signs of anyone in the kitchen, and the only signs in the living room were what she'd noticed from the door. Her heart started to pound a little. Ron should be here, Monique had said as much.

Running her fingers through her hair, she headed for Ron's workshop where he usually holed himself up. Walking slowly down the steps to the workshop, she called his name out loud again, "Ron? Where the Hell are you?"

Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, she spied nothing unusual. The workshop seemed devoid of human presence, except for Ron's armored suit laying innocuously on the worktable. As the red-head was about to turn and head back upstairs in search of her wayward friend, she spotted something sticking out from behind Ron's computer table.

"Ron?" she called again as she walked closer. "Oh god," she gasped as Kim realized what it was. She ran forward and crouched besides the prone figure lying face down on the floor. She almost recoiled in shock as her fingers grasped the cold, pale and clammy hand. "Ron!" she screamed as she turned the man on his back.

To her surprise, there was a gaping hole in the middle of his chest where his arc reactor used to be; the lifeline which prevented thousands of tiny metal slivers from shredding through his vital organs and killing him from the inside.

"Ron!" Kim screamed his name as she slipped an arm underneath his neck and pulled him closer to her body. Patting Ron's cheek lightly, she called in a panicked voice, "Ron! Can you hear me?"

"Kim?" a soft whisper escaped from his already bluish lips. His eyes fluttered open.

"Ron! You're alive!" Kim almost cried for joy as she embraced him awkwardly. "Wait here, Ron! I'll call 911."

"No…" Ron whispered weakly. He reached up weakly to grip Kim's shoulder. "No time…" he continued in a wheezing voice, as his gaze shifted to the computer table. "Get me that…"

"What?" Kim looked up to see an ornamental glass housing containing a glowing device in the middle. Realizing what it is, she reached up and plucked it off the table, before smashing it against the floor. Scrabbling among the sharp glass shards, she picked up the old arc reactor and held it in front of Ron. "How do I put this in?" she asked in panic.

"Just… Like plugging in a toaster," Ron muttered weakly, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

Kim swallowed a lump in her throat as she reached into his chest cavity and found the loose connector. Finding it, she gingerly pulled it out and had the older arc reactor plugged into his chest. Ron gasped as if in agony and took several short, sharp intakes of breath, before finally claming down and closing his eyes. Kim reached out and spooled the short connector back into his chest, before finally locking the thing into place. Sitting back, she watched anxiously, hoping for some miraculous change.

His face seemed a little more peaceful, as his breathing wasn't as labored as it had been before. He had stopped wheezing, and he looked like he was sleeping. Except that his skin was still pale and clammy. Assured that the immediate danger has been averted, Kim allowed herself a small smile as she brushed aside his blond bangs. "Oh Ron… What have you gotten yourself into?" she quietly whispered to herself. With a sigh, she reached for her cell phone and dialed 911.

"No!" Ron suddenly rasped, as his eyes shot open, startling Kim. His hand shot out to grip Kim's cell phone and tear it away from her grasp. "No hospital… There is no time…"

"Ron! You're injured and you need to go to the hospital, now!" Kim screamed shrilly at him. "Do you know how close you came to dying? We should get you checked up."

"No time," Ron repeated himself as he tried to prop himself up on one arm. "Monique's in danger… Wade's got the arc reactor and he's going to use it…"

"Wade?" Kim repeated in confusion. "What does Wade have to do with this?"

"It's not just Drakken who's behind this! Wade's his partner on this!" Ron finally spat out, shutting his eyes tight to will away the remaining pain in his chest and the sympathetic pain in his limbs.

"No, Ron," Kim shook her head. "It can't be… Ron, you're getting paranoid, and you're starting to suspect Drakken and Wade of things that they couldn't possibly…"

"Wade was here," Ron interrupted her grimly. His brown eyes blazed with anger that stopped Kim cold in her words. "Wade was here, and he stole my arc reactor, not to mention leaving me for dead…"

"No… Impossible…" Kim denied vehemently. "There's no way… Drakken, maybe… But Wade has always been our friend…"

"I don't know why he did it, but he did it…" Ron shook his head as he tried to get up. Seeing that Kim was not lifting a finger to help him get to his feet, he steadied himself against the computer table. Each movement took considerable effort and his lungs were struggling not to burst as his joints burned.

"Ron! Stop it!" Kim cried. "You're delusional! You're probably suffering from post-traumatic stress, and you need to see a doctor. How can Wade be…"

"Kim, if you're not going to help me…" Ron muttered angrily. "Then at least don't stop me. I know Wade stole my arc reactor to power Drakken's version of my suit! And he's going to hurt Monique and those Global Justice agents with her! She's in trouble, Kim! And I am going to save her!"

"Even if what you say is true," Kim cried as she grabbed his arm. "Let the agents handle this! They can handle something like this. That's what they're trained for."

"No, they can't!" Ron replied in a low voice as he took in deep gulps of air. "They have no hope of defeating Wade! I'm the _only_ person that can stop him!"

"Ron! You're already half-dead and can barely walk! And you want to go and fight a battle that an entire squad of Global Justice agents can't win?" Kim tightened her grip around his arm. "You nearly died, Ron! You're in no shape to fight!"

"I don't care! It's my fault!" Ron replied grimly. "I was careless… Drakken, or the terrorists working with him, found my prototype and pieced together a new suit using the blueprints. And now I am the only one who stands a chance of defeating that suit of his."

"No, Ron," Kim shook her head. "I'll call in the military if I have to. And Monique will be alright, she's a smart girl, she can take care of herself." She strode around him and put her hands on his shoulders, noting the wince on his face as she did so. "But I'm not letting you go out there and fight! Don't do it. Ron, look at me…" she glared at him with tear-filled emerald eyes. She whispered softly, "Look at me, Ron… Don't do this Ron. You almost died just a couple minutes ago!"

"Sorry, Kim," Ron tore his eyes away from her face as he gritted his teeth at the new source of pain flooding his heart. "I just wish I had more time to say I'm sorry and make up for all the stupid things I've done to you. But I need to do this now. With or without your help." He pulled away from Kim and 

staggered slowly over to his workbench where his suit lay. Grunting in pain with every movement, he buckled in his boots and slowly fastened bolts into place.

"What if…" Kim bit her lower lip as she looked away. "What if I told you… That if you walk out that door to fight Drakken or Wade… Then I'll never see you again?"

Kim looked back at Ron after several moments of silence. The blond merely stared her in mute silence, the expression on his face unreadable as if waiting for her to continue.

"I'll… I'll request for a transfer or something…" Kim said desperately, her voice breaking as she spoke, "I heard GJ needs more experienced personnel in Europe… And… And the pay's better… And…" Kim's voice faltered, forcing her to swallow against the dry lump in her throat. "I finally get to see France like we… like I always wanted to…"

Ron raised an eyebrow at the slight slip and cocked his head to the side a little before finally replying in a cold monotone. "Do what you have to, Kim." Kim flinched, a few tears slipping down her face as she nodded, realizing she'd played her trump card too late. "I don't think anything I say can ever change your mind," Ron whispered almost inaudibly, as he got back to donning his armor.

As he strained having to bend over to strap his left upper leg armor on, he found the lower left leg guard shoved into his face, and the red-eyed tear-filled face of Kim stared back at him. Kim quietly asked, "So how do I put this on you?"

Ron wanted to smile, he really did, but found that he could not. He sighed slightly as he drew to his full height. "It goes here, like this," Ron replied as he grabbed the other piece, and showed her how to strap it to his body. After a moment, as he watched her work, Ron felt his lips moving on his own. "So you're going to France... There's a lot of beautiful sights to see there, especially this time of year..."

Kim flinched again at the comment and the cold tone Ron used as she worked, fitting the suit together slowly to make sure she got everything right. "I don't know, Ron..." she muttered without meeting his eyes, "I still don't approve this. But if you want to get yourself killed, at least take me with you."

"No!" Ron raised his voice in surprise, almost dropping the shoulder guard in his hand. "Kim, it's going to be dangerous, a lot more dangerous than any of the missions we used to go on! There's _no_ reason for you to be there. You should stay behind…"

"Ron, you're not ditching me," Kim started in a matter-of-fact tone, but Ron's indignant voice caught her off guard.

"At least I'm not going to France!" Ron replied bitterly. "You know what Kim? Maybe you should listen to me for a change. I mean, Hell, it might be your last chance to actually hear what I'm saying…"

"Ron…" there was a hitch in her voice, as Kim looked at the blond man in despair. "Look, it's not easy for me either, okay?"

"It seemed easy enough for you last night..." Ron said, his tone lending itself more to observation than accusation. Even so, his eyes betrayed his deep, heartfelt emotions, the five years of pain he had hidden from everyone around him. He sighed, suddenly tired of the pain, the back and forth attempts to hurt 

each other more and more. He knew he had finally struck a chord in Kim, but did not want to hurt her anymore. He had done enough of that over the past five years, after all. "I dunno, Kim... I know you probably mean that, but you are the one that walked out on me..."

"Dammit, Ron... I-I just…" Her voice faltered as his words and the pain she saw in his eyes further twisting the knife she had felt in her heart for over five years.

"Just what, Kim?" Ron looked up at her with weary eyes. His words were neither hostile nor challenging, and the way he spoke, his voice a calm, soothing monotone, struck a chord in her.

"I…" Kim shook her head as she bit her lower lip. "I'm still coming with you, whether you like it or not. You need someone to watch your back." Kim muttered as she grabbed a torque wrench from his workbench.

Ron glanced down at his best friend as she turned back to his legs, her face wracked with concentration as she tightened the bolts on his armor. Her face was etched with steely resolve, which was a bad thing. It usually meant that she was going to get what she wanted, no matter what anyone else had to say. With a sigh, he remarked lightly, "So is this the return of Team Possible?"

"No," Kim replied tonelessly. "This is just you going to do what you have to do, and I'm just having your back."

"I do miss the good ol' days," Ron replied with a wistful look on his face as he strapped on his gauntlets.

"Me too," Kim replied, almost inaudibly.

Not quite knowing what to say, the both of them finished putting on the suit of armor in silence. Ron gave himself one last check, before looking at Kim who was holding onto the face mask. Not quite sure what he should say, Ron joked, "You know, I kinda need that last piece."

"Ron," Kim began as she held onto the face mask tightly in her hands. She gazed intently into that familiar, freckled face, the only part of him that looked human against the strange suit. "I know this isn't a good time to ask, but do you mean all those words you said yesterday?"

Ron hesitated for a moment as he returned her gaze. "Kim, like I said, I'm sorry for hurting you... I honestly want to spend the rest of my life making things right for you, just like I wanted to spend my life with you before you broke up with me... And I know this will be hard for you to believe, but I _never_ stopped loving you. It's just... How can I say enough? How can I convince you not to walk out of my life again? After last night, I doubt I can, but... I just wanted you to know..."

"Right…" Kim bit her lower lip as she looked searchingly into his brown eyes for a hint of falsehood behind his words. "Ron, I… I don't know if I can believe you yet…" Her words left her lips in a rush, and Kim felt her heart twist as they did. She also felt no small amount of betrayal, knowing that what she meant to say was completely different. She lowered her face, ashamed that she couldn't say what she wanted, even needed to say to him, even in the face of his possible death.

"Kim," Ron gently lifted her chin with his gauntlet. "It's alright… I know I deserve that…" Kim's eyes crinkled, trying to hold back tears. She wanted to scream at him, to tell him that he didn't deserve it, but 

his soothing voice interrupted her thoughts and anything she might have been about to say, "But I thought… I thought that I'd lost you for good yesterday… After being a complete jerk for most of my adult life, I don't know if I deserve having you stand before me, saving my life again… But dammit Kim, you're the most precious thing in my life…"

"Don't…" Kim turned her head away, as a gaping hole she had made herself tore larger in her heart.

"Maybe you have to go to France, maybe you need to get away from it all," Ron replied quietly. "But at the very least… I'd like to be friends again. And if you want… We can talk about you and me… After all of this blows over…"

Kim stared at him, her mouth opened slightly in shock. The last thing she had expected was such a mature offer of reconciliation from the man standing in front of her. "I guess…" Kim gave him one last smile, as she handed the final piece to him. A sense of fear trembled through every fiber of her being as she watched Ron fit the final piece into place, entombing himself in his invention. As the face mask locked into place, all traces of that charming, sweet blond man she had known all her life disappeared. Instead, in his place, stood a tall, domineering metal behemoth that bent and flexed its limbs carefully, as though gauging its own strength and testing its limbs.

Hesitantly she stepped forward, and caressed the side of the face piece with a trembling hand. The metal was hard, cold and unfeeling to touch. Gazing straight at where she guessed Ron's eyes would be, she spoke softly, "Ron?"

"Still here, Kim," it was his voice that sounded out, yet it had a distinct electronic overlay to the sound, making his voice sound more like that of a computer than human. But it could not mask the distinct grin in his voice from the satisfaction he derived from watching Kim's awed reaction.

Reassured that Ron was still in there some way, Kim allowed herself a small smile. Tiptoeing, she wrapped her arms around his neck, and pressed herself against his cold metal shell. "C'mon, Ron," she spoke, the clear strength of her confidence once again surging through her voice. "Let's go."

"While I'm no Superman," Ron remarked with a wide grin, as he tenderly wrapped an arm around her waist, "You'd better hang on... This is going to be one hell of a ride…"

* * *

Monique crouched behind a large stack of wooden crates, trembling in fear. She had only just realized what unfolded a few minutes ago. One minute she was leading in a dozen Global Justice agents through Drakken's lab, and suddenly the next, there was a burst of gunfire that cut the squad in half, literally for one of them. This was followed by loud yelling and agents being flung across the room with enough force to knock them out, if not kill them outright. When the chaos started, she had immediately ducked down and slid behind a computer terminal, which was her current hiding spot.

Her heartbeat thumped loudly in her ears as she old herself not to make a move. Right in front of her, lay an unconscious agent on his back. She was almost sure that he was dead... Almost, except for the slow rising and falling of his chest. Curled up in the corner, she clutched herself to try and stop from shivering. The thumping of her heart grew louder and louder…

_That's not the beating of my heart!_ Monique realized as she felt the ground tremor beneath her feet. Slowly crawling on all fours, she inched forward and peered around the edge of the computer she was hiding behind.

Her eyes widened as she saw it. Its back was faced towards her, and it stood a good ten feet tall, its humanoid shape made purely out of metal like a giant robot. Its feet were the size of small tree trunks and its arms looked as though it could easily break a person in half. Its hulking torso was the size of a Mini Cooper; it was basically a tank with limbs. Swallowing hard, Monique found herself frozen in terror as she watched the thing scan the entire lab, searching for survivors.

Suddenly it whirled around, moving with surprising speed for its bulk. Its eyes flashed red as a blue orb in its chest throbbed and glowed like an infernal heartbeat. It directed its gaze at Monique, watching her with that grim, emotionless mask.

Monique stared back at the metal behemoth, rooted in place. Her mind started to scream to her limbs, but her body was locked in fear. She could only watch as it took a step closer. And closer.

"Monique!" a loud yelling of her name snapped her out of her trance as she quickly scrambled to her feet and ran for the exit. She'd long ditched her heels, and was running barefooted towards the exit before she could hear a heavy thundering as the hulking giant started to build momentum as it bounded after her.

In fright, she slammed her entire body against the fire escape and burst out into the parking lot adjacent to the laboratory. Just as she had scrambled across the parking lot, she heard a loud crash as her pursuer, whom she thought was too small to fit through the fire escape, burst through the walls as though tearing through paper.

The giant stood perfectly still for a moment as it surveyed the parking lot, crunching bricks and mortar beneath its bulk. Spying Monique running across the parking lot, it raised its right arm. As the arm settled on Monique's running form, several locks clicked and a General Electric M134 'mini-gun' slid into firing position. Within fractions of a second, its barrels started spinning, ready to send four thousand rounds per minute of steel jacketed bullets into the fleeing woman.

It sounded like a whole barrage fireworks erupting immediately behind her. The sound startled her as she fell to the ground, skinning her knees and tearing her skirt. She clutched her hands over her ears, and shut her eyes tight, her final thought strangely thinking of her dry laundry she had yet to pick up.

"No!" her last primal scream echoed through her head before she awaited her maker.

The loud gunfire suddenly ceased, and Monique slowly opened her eyes. Wondering why she didn't feel the pain, she shakily pushed herself up off the ground, and turned to gain her bearings. As she looked back, she saw a tall humanoid in gold and red anodized metal, standing between her and her pursuer, shielding her from the hail of bullets. A single name escaped her lips.

"Ron!"

"Monique!" someone yelled out to her again.

Turning her head to see the source of the voice, Monique saw a red-head dressed in a Global Justice uniform sprinting towards her. Monique almost cried for joy as Kim settled into a crouch beside her to touch her face.

Wiping the smearing mascara with the back of her hand, Monique could not help but wrap her arms around the woman who'd come to her side. "Kim," she half-sobbed as she buried her face into the red-head's shoulder.

"Shh…" Kim gently comforted her best friend. "Let's get out of here," she spoke softly. "Leave this to Ron."

Numbly the woman nodded her head, before being helped to her feet. The two women ran briskly for cover behind the few cars left in the parking lot. Nervously, peeking up from behind their cover, they turned their attention back to the standoff between the two men and machines.

"That's Ron, isn't it?" Monique whispered. She couldn't get rid of the trembling in her voice, as she clutched Kim's hand tightly for comfort.

"Yeah," Kim nodded her head. "It's going to be alright. What happened?"

"I don't know… I was leading the agents into Drakken's lab when that thing attacked us," Monique quietly replied. "Next thing I know, I was running away from it, and then you two showed up…"

"Okay," Kim nodded her head.

"Kim, Ron's going to be alright, isn't he?" Monique asked fearfully.

"Yeah, I hope so," Kim replied as she watched the scene before her intently. She hoped she was right.

Ron glared furiously at the hulking behemoth before him. It was a good four feet taller than his own suit, and had arms that were large enough to compact a car into a cubic foot of twisted metal. Switching on his communications, he tried a broad frequency spectrum and hailed the machine before him. "Wade? Is that you or Drew?"

On his HUD inside his helmet, a small window popped up and a grinning face of Wade looked back at Ron. "You continue to surprise me, Ron," Wade replied flippantly. "I thought you'd be dead by now."

"I won't be killed by the likes of you," Ron snarled as he tensed his muscles.

"In a way, I'm glad that you're still alive," Wade continued with his light, confident tone. "That just means that I'll get to test this invention out against yours. I got to warn you beforehand, Drew made it faster, stronger and better…"

"We'll see about that!" Ron yelled, as he raised both his hands and fired two repulsor bursts at his opponent. Two shockwaves impacted squarely on the torso, each with enough force to blast a hole through two feet of solid concrete, but Wade shrugged it off lightly as nothing more than a strong gale.

"See, Ron?" Wade smirked. "You have no chance of defeating me. Now it's my turn!" With that declaration, Wade lifted his left arm and deployed a 30mm anti-tank gun on his left forearm. Grinning as he sighted his target, he gently thumbed the first shell. A little shudder shook the behemoth as a depleted uranium projectile sped towards Ron.

Ron barely had time to react as the anti-tank gun deployed. Diving to his left, he narrowly avoided the armor-penetrating round as it impacted the ground where he stood a moment ago, and erupted in an explosion of broken pavement. He wasn't quite in the mood to test if his suit could stand up to such an impact. He quickly went back on the offensive by firing another two repulsor rounds against Wade, while he sprinted forth in a zigzag manner, hoping to close in the distance between them and nullifying Wade's apparent weapons advantage.

A smirk crept to Wade's face as he watched Ron sprint towards him, with bursts of speed from the repulsors in his feet. Just as Ron closed in, he raised both hands and struck Ron squarely between the shoulders with a hammer blow. The smaller suit instantly crumbled to the ground beneath the force of impact, and drove Ron's body into a little crater in the ground.

With a triumphant yell, Wade raised his left foot and began stomping on his fallen opponent, trying to crush Ron beneath his feet. With each slamming of his foot, he drove Ron deeper into the road.

"Oh god, Kim," Monique covered her mouth in horror as she watched her boss being smashed into the ground unmoving. "We got to do something."

"Already on it," Kim muttered grimly as she snagged Monique's keys from her and ran to the woman's parked Escalade ESV SUV. On her way over, she thumbed the keyfob and ripped the door open. Settling herself in, she started the truck and backed up, making sure she had a good line on the behemoth beating Ron down. She almost laughed as she heard Monique yelling for her to hurry up, and wondered idly if the woman realized her truck would soon be totaled.

She slammed the gear into reverse, backing out of the parking lot and braking to place Wade squarely in her sights. Growling a soft "Fuck you!" Kim slammed into drive and floored the accelerator, feeling her whole body shoved back into her seat as the SUV leapt forward.

Wade had been so engrossed pounding on Ron and relishing the superiority of his suit, that he did not realize Kim was bearing down on him until the klaxons of his proximity alert came on. In surprise, he looked up just in time to see Kim's raging face in the driver's seat of Monique's huge black SUV. He also realized it was about to slam into him. "Oh shit!"

Kim waited for the last possible moment before impact, then yanked open the driver's door and dove out. She instantly covered her head with her arms, tucking into a roll. Feeling her body scrape and bounce on the road, she winced at the pain. But the pain was soon largely forgotten when she heard the unmistakable impact and loud crunch of metal, as the SUV literally folded itself upon Wade, pushing him back a couple of yards.

The red-head quickly leaped to her feet and ran towards Monique, knowing that she had no chance head-to-head against such a killing machine. Suddenly a loud voice yelled out behind her.

"Possible!" the voice hollered as the behemoth tore itself free from the SUV's wreckage.

Kim turned in surprise to face the voice. Although it was modified similarly to Ron's, she had heard the voice so many times that it was unmistakable. "Wade?" she gaped at the larger of the two machines. "Is that you?"

"Of course!" Wade's voice thundered across the parking lot. He grunted as he reached down and scooped up what he had not yet shredded from the mangled SUV and easily threw it across the parking lot. "Who else do you think it'd be?" He stomped up towards the stunned red-head, drawing to his full intimidating height, as he stared down at her.

"But… But…" Kim stammered, as her eyes opened wide. "Drakken was the one with the plans…"

"Drakken?" Wade roared with laughter. "Where do you think Drakken got those plans from? I gave it to him! I asked him to make this monstrosity; that fool had no business acumen at all! All he knew to do was play with his little toys and gadgets in his laboratory. There's not a snowball's chance in Hell Drew could even come close to matching Ron's genius when it comes to weapons! He couldn't even understand the possibilities of this suit!"

"But why? Wade?" Kim mewled in horror. "Why did you try and kill Ron?"

"Because he was a total fool!" Wade shouted, the sheer contempt and fury behind his voice evident. "He wanted to bring ruin to this company! This company that he and I have worked on for years... He's become too self-obsessed with himself; I finally understood what Drakken meant when your father and his colleagues laughed him out of graduate school! That man," Wade pointed furiously at the prone figure, "That man has belittled me for the last time! Look at this place even! We built it with our own two hands! But whose name is on the company? Stoppable Enterprises... His arrogance is deplorable; that he wants to destroy my life's work, just because he has a change of heart, and a chance to get in the sack with _you_! He's forgotten that this company is not only about him!"

"Wade," Kim's voice trembled as she watched her ranting friend. "Wade, we can talk about this…"

"There's nothing to talk about!" Wade roared, as he stomped forward. "I'm taking back this company, and there's nothing you can do about it. It's about time that I'm paid my dues, after all..."

"But, Wade, he's your friend!" Kim argued against the giant metal machine.

"He's not my friend! No more!" Wade yelled, as he raised his right arm to aim his extended minigun at Kim. "He's always treated me like a lackey and never appreciated all that I've done for him... And suddenly he wants to destroy everything that we've built together? All I wanted was a little appreciation around here, and after I get rid of Ron, everyone will know my name!"

"No they won't," a quiet voice sounded from behind Wade.

"What?" Just before Wade could turn around, a red and gold blur leaped up and grappled him from behind. Reaching his right hand up, Ron smashed his fist into a panel near the neck area and ripped out the armored plating. He shoved his palm into the housing, right over the fragile electronics inside and fired a repulsor blast.

The explosion knocked Ron backwards, with his suit protecting him from a sizable portion of the blast. However, on his HUD, he noticed a new flashing alert. The beating that the suit has just received from Wade had taken out a sizable chunk of power from his arc reactor, and that latest repulsor blast had dropped his energy levels even lower.

"Twelve percent," Ron growled to himself as he got to his feet. At least Wade was… He'd barely had time to finish that thought before a large arm flew out from nowhere and delivered a stunning backhand that slammed him into the side of the laboratory, bringing a good part of the wall crashing down on him.

"Stoppable!" Wade's voice roared over the rubble, as he strode up to the fallen figure. "I guess I have you to thank for discovering a flaw in the design. You might have taken out my targeting computer, but I have more than enough power to finish you." He raised a large fist before slamming it down on Ron's chest, where his arc reactor was flashing as its power levels dropped critically low.

Grunting at the impact and from being jostled roughly inside his armor, Ron raised an arm and fired off another repulsor blast at Wade's helmet. The impact only staggered the behemoth slightly, but the distraction was enough for Ron to roll out of the way, and scramble to his feet.

"What's the matter, Stoppable?" Wade taunted, as he strode closer towards him as the road cracked and ruptured beneath his feet. "Feeling helpless now? If only you had appreciated your friends more! Even Kim has abandoned you now!"

"You're way more long winded than any of the villains Kim and I fought!" Ron replied angrily. "Just shut up!" He dashed forward and ducked underneath those huge swinging arms, before firing another pair of repulsor blasts at point blank range.

The larger suit of armor shuddered and shook as it took the brunt of the impact, but it did little to slow it down. In anger, Wade swung his left arm towards Ron. As the latter took a step back, his eyes opened wide and a loud explosion ripped through the air in front of him. He felt the crunch of metal as his suit buckled a little. He was barely aware that he was flying backwards at high speed before his back impacted a wall.

Alerts were going off in his suit due to the power levels plummeting so suddenly. The last thing Ron saw was Wade as he unhinged the front portion of his armor to look at him with his own eyes. Wade laughed triumphantly at him, holding up his anti-tank gun which was still smoking from the projectile he had just fired at point blank range.

"When I said my targeting computer was down…" Wade laughed almost maniacally. "I didn't mean my eyesight was, too... There was no way in hell I could miss you at that range."

The HUD in Ron's suit zoomed in on Wade's laughing face just before it finally flickered and died, leaving Ron helplessly entombed in darkness, as his suit ceased to function for good.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

Yup, so it's Wade, it was Wade in charge all along. Wade, Wade, Wade. Yup. Just got to say, if you saw that coming, good for you. Congrats to those who guessed. But then again, statistically speaking, if enough people guess, one of you is bound to be right.

And then there's Drakken. He's just the lacky, according to Wade, but he should be in on the fun... Then again, he always did run from danger whenever the good guys were around, so there's that...

So far, things seem to be coming to a close. Wade didn't go down as easily as Stane did in the movies. I figured heck, need one more bit of suspense before the final chapters right? Besides, this is Wade, Team Possible's hacker extraordinaire, and quite the inventor to boot, so it kinda makes sense he'd be more capable than Stane was in the movies...


	10. Chapter 10

"No!" Monique screamed as she saw an explosion erupt between Wade and Ron, followed by Ron's red and gold suit of armor flying away with great force, head first into the already damaged wall of the laboratory. Standing out from behind the car, she raised her hands to her mouth in disbelief as the pale blue glow in Ron's chest flickered feebly before giving way to darkness.

"Ron!" Kim screamed out his name, as she stood next to Monique. "Ron, get up, damn you!" The dust had barely settled, yet it looked like Ron was down and never getting up. With Wade's wicked laughter echoing around them, tears sprang to her eyes as she screamed his name again. "Ron! Please..."

Turning to face the two women, Wade grinned triumphantly. "I've done it! I've destroyed Ron Stoppable!"

"Why, Wade?" Kim screamed shrilly at the man who used to be an integral part of Team Possible. "Why?" she fell sobbing to her knees, as her voice surrendered to sobs. "Ron…"

"Now that he's out of the way, the company belongs to me!" Wade gloated as he marched towards Kim and Monique. "All I need to do now, is get rid of the witnesses…"

Monique tugged at Kim's shoulders as she tried to pull Kim away with her. But in her sobbing distress, the red-head was clearly unreceptive to the danger that was approaching. "Kim! We gotta run!" Monique hissed in fear as she grabbed her arm. "Let's go!"

Kim pulled away from her friend as she cried on her knees, uncaring of the hulking ten-foot giant lifting its massive fists above the two of them, ready to smash them into the ground. She could only call to Ron weakly, "Ron… Please, Ron… Please"

"Kim," Wade called to her, with a sneer evident in his voice. "You have no idea how long I've waited for this day."

"Why, Wade?" Monique screamed, as she held a catatonic Kim in her arms. "They're your friends! Why? What's this about? Money? Power?"

"At first, no, but now that's a small part of many other things!" Wade roared out in anger. "Have you forgotten what your _friends _did to me?"

"What friends?" Kim asked, her eyes flashing with confusion as Wade stared down at her in his rage.

"GJ, who else?" Wade sneered at the shocked woman. "It was so easy for you to give up my secrets to them, wasn't it? Just so that they'd let you into Global Justice. It was your dream, after all, wasn't it, Kim?"

"I don't understa-…"

"Can it, Kim!" Wade yelled at her. "Why do you think Ron failed the GJ exams? Why do you think I first started working with Drew and dropped all contact with Team Possible? It was all because of you!"

"You made Ron fail?" Kim gasped as she shook her head, anger briefly flashing in her eyes. "But... How can you say I had anything to do with Ron failing?"

"Oh, the 'how' was easy enough, Kim, but I'll get to that in a minute..." Wade sneered. "As for the 'why', don't you remember Kim? Don't you remember giving them _my_ Kimmunicator?"

"What? No… I didn't… No…" Kim shook her head as tears streamed down her face, her heart searching for a denial. "No… It's not true… Wade, you're wrong… I didn't… They just wanted to look at it for a moment… They gave it back to me right away!"

"Right away? Right _away_?" Wade roared out angrily. "Are you stupid, or just disgustingly naive, Kim? Don't you know? It didn't matter how long they had it! You just as well have left it with them for a week, which you probably did!"

"No! I had it back within a few minutes, 'cause you called me on a mission! I wasn't in GJ yet, after all..." Kim cried back, "Betty... She asked me if you'd be interested in a contract to make more Kimmunicators for them! She had the paperwork all written up, but you'd disappeared, gone completely off the grid!"

"You're wrong, Kim..." Wade grated dangerously, "You may have kept it that night, but they got it from you for long enough, didn't they?"

Kim shook her head in confusion, "Long enough for what, Wade? You're not making any sense!"

"They hacked into it or something, Kim... They used it to find me!" Wade screamed, pain in his eyes, "You remember, when I lost contact with you later that day? They came to my house with CIA and NSA agents in tow... You had to know about it!" Wade paused, watching Kim's shocked, tearful expression, the pain and confusion in her eyes telling of her ignorance. He took a breath, continuing in a quieter, far deadlier voice, "No, I'll bet you didn't know a thing, you naïve bitch... But they 'offered' me a chance to 'redeem' myself, Kim..."

Kim shuddered, knowing what that meant. She had worked with some of those very agencies in her time with GJ, and knew that their offers of redemption were far from pleasant. "Wade, I didn't kno-...

"I lost my entire system," Wade continued with his cold voice, "I lost all my homebrew programs, and my mother was jailed for contributing to the delinquency of a minor and collusion with a terrorist and espionage against a sovereign nation! They had me, Kim, just the way they wanted me…"

He paused, watching with a grim, satisfied smile on his face at the pain he was inflicting. And he was not even close to finished yet. "Ever since then, GJ and anyone they work with have been trying to track me... And while they were only partially successful, it was enough! They ruined every chance I had to get into good universities, get good jobs, _everything_... The only reason I had a job at all was because Drew, of all people, trusted me! And all because you gave them the Kimmunicator! Ten minutes or ten days, it didn't matter! Until Stoppable Enterprises became too valuable to the government, I was barely able to do anything without some agent or another visiting me! But I did enough..."

"I didn't know!" Kim protested in vain, interrupting his rant again much to Wade's annoyance. "I didn't mean for that to happen! They said they just wanted to to have a look! You have to believe me…"

"Enough!" Wade roared. "I've had enough of your petty excuses! You're so wrapped up in your own perfect little world that you think GJ is an upstanding organization that won't stoop to blackmail!"

"But, Wade... How?" Kim begged, "How did you do this, if they really did all that to you?"

"Oh, easily, Kim..." Wade said softly, leaning forward, "It all started with an anonymous email sent from Japan..." Kim stared at him in confusion, "Oh, really, Kim, you don't know about Yamanouchi? The ninja school Ron went to? The email was ostensibly one of them requesting GJ to get ahold of 'Stoppable-_sama'_! According to the email, it was because his Mystical Monkey Powers were of unprecedented power and that they should send him back to further his training… It was a simple matter of changing certain words to make Ron an unviable candidate… Though knowing that you were going to break up with him thanks to your chats with Monique helped form the plan, so I should thank you both..."

"Wha-..." Monique and Kim muttered, staring at him in shock. Monique stood up, shaking with rage as she mustered enough courage to raise her shaking voice, ignoring a frantic Kim trying to hush her, "How _dare_ you do that to Ron! And our conversations were private!"

"I _dared_ because I wanted revenge for what she put me and my mother through!" Wade bellowed, his rage renewed, "And if it's private conversations you want, dear Monique, maybe you should turn your cell phone off, hmmm? It was a simple matter to hack your phone and use it to listen to, as I said just a moment ago, Kim ranting about how Ron could always be something better, and how it was over if he didn't do just that?"

"You bastard..." Kim whispered hoarsely, trying to speak around the lump in her throat. She hung her head, tears dropping with small patters against the blacktop of the parking lot.

"Yes, I know, Kim, and you can blame yourself... For failing your partner and one of your best friends, all for the glamour of a job with Global Justice." Wade's tone was conciliatory, but his eyes were hard and cold. "GJ had some good laughs at my expense, but I get the last laugh now!"

Wade's smile turned predatory as he flexed his fingers within the waldos controlling the beast's arms, the suit's fingers flexing in the same manner adding to the menacing appearance. "I've done what all your enemies have failed to do. I've destroyed Team Possible!"

"Not yet!" Monique barked, interposing herself between Wade and Kim. "You're all talk and nothing else! Just whining about how you got dealt a bad hand. Truth is you never came to Kim for help, and she would have done anything for you, Wade! In the end, you're just an immature little mommy's boy… You were nothing before Kim! And you'd still be some hacker sitting in your room without her!"

"Am I, now? Nothing, Monique, really?" Wade sneered with disgust. Turning his head to gesture at the office complex behind him, he continued, "Look at where we are right now! We have gone from nothing to becoming the richest entrepreneurs in the world! Look what _we_ could have achieved without Kim; she was actually holding Ron back from our greatness!"

"You're wrong!" Monique shot back as courageously as she could against the huge metal behemoth before her. "Ron would never be where he is today if not for Kim…"

"Oh really?" Wade's lips curled viciously and glanced back at Ron's crumpled suit, the black spot where the arc reactor resided telling of the blond's imminent death. "Well, you may have a point. I mean, look what happened: Kim left Ron, and he did start to improve, right?"

He glanced back at Kim, seeing a grudging admittance of that truth written on her face. "Yes, exactly... By the end of that year, he'd have probably been a self made millionaire, and you two could have been together... But he was stagnating, pining away for his 'KP', but I already saw the potential... If only I could get him to _work_ for it! So I took the initiative... And when I did, it took me a good twenty days of programming and hundreds of hours of footage to give Ron that final push to leave you behind!"

"You mean…" Kim blinked hard. "That video…"

"Kim, Kim, Kim..." Wade shook his head patronizingly. "You mean you couldn't even recognize my own handiwork? I'm surprised…" Wade paused, laughing as if at some cosmic joke. "Nah, actually, I'm not... Hell, I made millions off of selling my first four revisions of that software to Hollywood... The same software that CG _experts_ claim has gone beyond the so called Uncanny Valley and just shy of one hundred percent realism!"

Monique squeezed her eyes shut as she clutched Kim's head tightly to her chest, not wanting to abandon her broken friend. Tears sprang to her eyes as she realized that this time, no one was going to save her.

"Dr. Load!" a voice screeched over from the laboratory, a solitary figure stepping out through a hole in the wall. The man was dressed in a blue lab coat with black boots and gloves, and he bore had a pony tail much longer than it had been during the early days of Team Possible, as well as a scar over his left eye. Dr. Drew P 'Drakken' Lipsky walked closer towards the scene with the confident, almost arrogant swagger he had always used.

"Dr. Lipsky," Wade beamed as he watched the inventor and head of the research division of Stoppable Enterprises step into view.

"Did you just kill Mr. Stoppable?" Drakken asked nonchalantly as though engaging in a typical comment about the weather.

"The fool will bother us no more!" Wade crowed gleefully. "I will take over the company, and you will get a promotion! Together, nothing can stop us from marketing more of these suits and owning the world market in weapons research, development, and sales!"

"Right," Drakken pursed his lips as though contemplating in deep thought. "And you're going to kill Kim Possible and her friend too?"

"Collateral damage," Wade shrugged. "It's all Ron's fault anyway! If he hadn't tried to shut down the primary aspect of Stoppable Enterprises…"

"When you said that you will get Mr. Stoppable to see your side of things, I didn't think that this is what you meant," Drakken replied evenly, as he surveyed the damage caused by the battle. "I merely thought you were going to show him the suit and talk reason into him, not..." Drakken waved casually over to Ron's suit where it lay crumpled to the ground, "That..."

"If he wasn't so stubborn, we could have avoided all of this!" Wade raised his voice angrily. "He's long outlived his usefulness! I'm just doing what those damned terrorists failed to do!"

"I was wondering about that…" Drakken mused to himself. "How did Ron's convoy get ambushed exactly?"

"Listen, Drew," Wade shook his head. "Ron was becoming a liability and you know it! He hasn't invented anything except for this suit in almost six months! It was bad enough when he drank himself silly with all those whores, but no... His affairs had dropped, he'd even cut back on drinking! He didn't give a damn about the company anymore, Drew... That _bitch_..." he pointed at Monique, his tone accusing in its rage, "Was getting to him... She was not too far at all from making him reconcile with Kim, and you know as well as I do that the company would have gone to Hell if that happened!"

"Well, in Ron's defense," Drakken said in his still neutral tone, "Ron was kidnapped for three of those six months, and he had been too busy with interviews, promotional events, and the like before that..."

Wade ground his teeth with a seething glare before dropping his voice dangerously, "Drew... It's time for Stoppable Enterprises to benefit from new leadership... And it will only work out for us if we raisethis company up from the ashes of its founder's tragic death!" Wade paused as Drakken pursed his lips again, then he pressed on to the older scientist, his tone becoming almost desperate, "Drew, you know, you know that we can reach new heights! Ron wouldn't listen because he just didn't understand… But you and I, we know what needs to be done…"

"So if I were to oppose you, would you kill me too?" Drakken raised an eyebrow defiantly.

"Drew! We built this company together!" Wade screamed out at the mad scientist. "What about your dreams of creating a better world? Would it be possible if Stoppable screwed us over by shutting down this company? All your genius would have gone to waste!"

"I didn't think you would go this far," Drakken replied dryly.

"Goddammit, Drew, I'm serious!" Wade shouted almost incoherently. "He's going to destroy us all! I'm sick of playing second fiddle to his work... That's all he does: hoard the glory while we do all the hard work! In fact, this company should be named Stoppable, Load and Lipsky Enterprises! I'm merely taking back what's mine!"

"I'm not going to let you kill anyone," Drakken remarked, ignoring his partner's rant.

"Oh yeah?" Wade's face instantly contorted into a gleaming smirk. "How are you going to stop me?"

"With this..." Drakken replied as he reached into his right coat pocket and removed a recording device. Replacing the device, he carefully pulled out a different, smaller device from his inside left breast pocket, barely holding it out from his coat while holding the left flap tightly closed. "And this..."

Wade instantly doubled over with laughter as he saw the object. "One of your little Diablo robots from back in the old days?" Wade laughed as he turned, stalking slowly over towards Drakken. "You have got to be kidding! Those things have all been disabled and their power generators removed! That is nothing more than an undersized paperweight! And even if you had an arc reactor, there wouldn't be any way for you to surge enough power to the damn thing to work!"

"I suppose you're right," Drakken shrugged evenly, before a knowing smile slipped to his face. "After all, the Li'l Diablo's main bulk was stored in a small pocket dimension, so they weren't too heavy for children to carry, but once activated, they need that power to once again be folded _back_ into that dimension..."

Wade stopped for a moment, slightly shaken by Drakken's slow, even speech and seemingly confident tone. Drakken breathed an inaudible sigh of relief, hiding it by chuckling briefly before continuing, "Now, if memory serves, one of these things weighs ten tons when activated, and due to the strange nature of the pocket dimension, they keep their speed when someone throws them, but gain the mass and inertia of a ten ton object..." Drakken smiled as Wade gave him a confused, frustrated glare, and the scientist smiled dangerously. "And as for a way to power it without my radio tower? Well, you seem to have missed one of my notes to the board..."

With those words, Drakken revealed what he had been hiding underneath the left flap of his coat. Two small, dark colored wires were secured to the Li'l Diablo's power conversion and supply circuit."High temperature superconductors!" Drakken called out gleefully, hurling the little toy at Wade with his right hand while whipping a remote from his pocket with the other. He thumbed the activation button on the remote before a surge of energy made the superconducting wires dance and sing in protest of the demands being put on them. But even as they slagged into expensive droplets of molten material, the little toy seemed to grow in size, before becoming a huge, full scale Diablo Robot.

Wade's eyes grew wide with surprise, and he barely at time to react and reseal his armor before ten tons of solid steel robot smashed right into him and toppled him over, pinning him to the ground. The sound of twisting metal from the Li'l Diablo and the scrape of the Iron Monger's energized plates resounded deafeningly through the parking lot, as Monique drug Kim out of the way of several pieces of Li'l Diablo flew in their direction. Screaming curses at Drakken, Wade struggled to get out from under the robot, slamming the arms and legs of his Iron Monger into the Li'l Diablo like a jackhammer.

Drakken took the opportunity to run over to Ron, crouching down by the fallen gold and red suit of armor. "Mr. Stoppable? Are you alright?" Drakken called as he rapped his knuckles on the forehead of the construct.

"Still alive," Ron's pained voice came through, sounding muffled by the suit. "No power, thing is dead, you need to get me out of this."

"No, listen," Drakken interrupted the man as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a cylindrical object. "I have the pan-dimensional vortex inducer with me, and I converted it to draw and convert energy, instead of opening dimensional doors! Just tell me where I can hook this up and…"

"Wait a minute, you had the PDVI all this time?" Ron asked in surprise.

"Don't ask," Drakken shrugged. "I'll just say it was a souvenir from my villain days. I just claimed it was destroyed when Team Possible blew up my last lair."

"Right," Ron grumbled. "There's a slot on my left side, just push the panel there and let it slide open… Yeah, that's right. Then connect the PDVI to those wires; that should give me enough juice for a while."

"Uh huh," Drakken nodded as he followed the instructions. "Mr. Stoppable, I just want you know that I have nothing to do with this… Mr. Load just told me that you had a project for me to work on, and that he was going to consult with you about all this…"

"Right," Ron remarked sarcastically. "I did mention that I wanted to stop building weapons."

"Heh," Drakken let out a wry grin. "I didn't think too much into that? After all, the labor and heavy service industry would welcome the replacement of forklifts with something a man could wear, or am I wrong?"

Ron shook his head at Drakken's though process, them smiled, "You may be right, but we couldn't go making thousands of arc reactors or PDVIs to power them, y'know?"

"I hadn't thought of that, though I'm sure cabling at a worksite or a small gas or diesel generator would work just as well for a non-combat role. Besides," Drakken continued in a more speculative tone, "Didn't you originally intend this supposed to be for some sort of peace keeping force?"

"It was supposed to be private and confidential!" Ron growled. "Now are you done yet?"

"Yeah, almost, Ronald..." There were a few audible clicks and Drakken smiled, "I had to adjust this based on the telemetry I got from Wade's suit... I wouldn't want to cause an explosion from your arc reactor, after all..." After a few more clicks, Drakken sat back slightly on his haunches, smiling brightly at Ron, "And there we go!" A loud snap of static electricity, resounded as Drakken connected the final wire. The PDVI hummed as it sent energy surging into the suit.

The HUD inside Ron's suit lit up, and power levels skyrocketed to optimal levels. The arc reactor had come back online, brightening in intensity with its renewed energy. Doing a quick diagnostics check on his suit, Ron discovered a minor fracture in the outer shell, on the chest piece where the anti-tank projectile had hit him at point blank range, denting the armor more than a little bit, but was relieved when the suit's interior integrity was listed as still intact.

Monique could only nudge her best friend as she watched Ron rise to his feet, assisted by Drakken. "Kim…" she whispered in awe as the red and gold suit stretched out its limbs and got to its feet. "Kim…" she called for joy. "Ron's alive!"

"Ron…" Kim mournfully cried, as none of the words registered across her mind.

Monique tore her hands away from her tear-filled face, and pointed in Ron's direction. Screaming to her face, Monique said, "He's alive! Look, Kim! Ron's alright!"

"Ron?" Kim blinked away the tears as she gazed across the parking lot to see Ron standing tall from the rubble with Drakken standing next to him. A renewed hope flowed into her as she realized that he was alive. "Ron!" she shouted for joy, as she clutched onto Monique's arm tightly.

"Woah there," Monique laughed through her tears as she returned the embrace. "Our boy's alright now…"

"So, Drew," Ron growled as he watched Wade furiously hammering away with his arms and legs at what was left of the ten ton Diablo robot lying on top of him. "How do I destroy that thing?"

"Hit it hard," Drakken remarked coolly.

"What?" Ron turned to look at Drakken incredulously. "No weak spot? No remote failsafe? No self-destruct button?"

"Nope, nadda, zip," Drakken shook his head. "I learnt not to do that already after the last time you found that self-destruct button in my evil lair."

"Gee, thanks," Ron rolled his eyes. "What a time to learn that lesson."

"Well, if you do something like drop a forty ton semi on it, that might stop it," Drakken remarked. "But _only_ if you drop it from a high enough spot. The impact would overload the circuits and cause the armor to shut down."

"Where am I going to get forty ton semi this late?" Ron asked not sounding amused.

"Hey, you asked me how to stop that thing!" Drakken exclaimed matter-of-factly, "It's not my fault I designed it with high impact survivability in mind..." he finished with an ironic twist of his lips as cocked his head to the side.

"Actually... That gives me an idea…" a sudden realization struck him. "You used my original designs and that thing flies, right?"

"Uh huh…" Drakken nodded his head, not quite knowing where he was going with this.

"Then if the mountain won't come to me, then I'll just have to go to the mountain!" Ron replied as he strode towards Wade.

"Damn you Drakken!" Wade gave one last enraged yell before he threw off the remains of the Diablo robot to the side. "I'll kill you!"

"Wrong, Wade," Ron declared grimly, as he stepped to face him. "This is just between the two of us and I'm going to settle it right now."

"Shouldn't you be dead already, Stoppable?" Wade remarked derisively. "You should stay dead!"

"Not this time," Ron mocked him, as he kicked in his repulsors and launched himself a few feet in the air. Aiming his two arms at the larger machine again, he fired multiple bursts at it. "Not so big without your targeting computers now, are you?"

Roaring in rage, Wade activated his own jets and the hulking beast of a machine slowly rose into the air. "You're not the only who can fly!" Wade sneered with contempt as he charged at Ron.

Easily sidestepping the cumbersome charge, Ron immediately shot skywards as he shouted at Wade, "You couldn't even invent anything to save your life! All you did was rip plans off the Internet and 

passed inventions like the grappling hair dryer off as yours! You may be one computer whiz, but you suck at everything else."

Snarling with rage, Wade adjusted course as he sped after Ron skywards. "At first I thought I would regret killing you," Wade roared over the radio. "But after this, I think I'm going to enjoy it!"

Ron turned in midair and fired a small salvo of repulsor bursts at the incoming giant. "C'mon, Wade!" Ron taunted. "I thought you had a better machine than me! You're barely catching up!"

Wade easily dodged the shots Ron had fired, and lifted his right arm to aim his minigun at Ron using manual controls. The wild spraying of bullets did little to slow the gold and red armor down as Ron seemed to speed on ahead of him. "Stop running and face me!" Wade screamed through the radio. "I will destroy you!"

"Oh yeah?" Ron's annoying smirk seems to be evident in his voice as he continued to mock the other man. "Like you could destroy me with that piece of junk anyway!"

"I'll show you! I'll show you that I'm better than you! I'll show you that I have the better machine, the better mind and the better vision! I'll…" Wade shouted angrily, his words devolving into an enraged shriek as he kicked in the afterburners, giving the suit one last jolt of speed forward.

"Just tell me one thing, Wade," Ron grinned as he just turned to hover in the air at seventy thousand feet above sea-level, looking down at the hulking behemoth approaching him. "How did you fix that icing problem?"

"What icing problem?" Wade snapped nastily. His eyes had been so fixated on the man before him that he didn't notice the warning signs. The sensors were starting to die and the feedback systems had stopped responding. The rocket propulsion boots were starting to splutter and a thin layer of ice and from across his cameras. Suddenly, the HUD flickered out and died, and Wade was left in darkness as his suit started to plummet downwards in a freefall. "No…" he screamed to himself as the only thing waiting for him below was the cold, hard earth…

* * *

**Author's Notes**

Okay, I know you guys expected something different from the end. But I decided to stick with the original ending of Iron Man because hey, it was a good story, and a good ending, and I'd not like to mess with that. You might read that as, "NoobFish is copping out." But yeah… It's true! I mean, I've got to have essential elements of the movie in here right? Otherwise, I could have always gone the comic route and have Stane blow his own brains out, which instantly ups the rating of the fic.

As for Wade deserving a fate worse than death, I guess it's not Ron's place to judge him. So yeah, maybe he should have, but I'd rather not go there.

And, yup, one more chapter to go… One more chapter to go…


	11. Chapter 11

_It's comfortable here..._ Kim thought listlessly as she looked to the dance floor of the club she'd been at for the last two hours. The DJ was quite good, as they always were at this club, even if the DJ in the booth was new to her. She was playing a slower chill style trance tune at the moment, the minor key music and lower than normal volume surprisingly soothing to her jangled nerves.

"Maybe I should see him… Just to say goodbye…" She muttered uncertainly to herself, but just as quickly, she quashed the stray reflection. She couldn't do that… Seeing him lying there… Stretchered away in the ambulance… She'd never felt so scared in her entire life, and knew she would back out of she did see him again.

"Found you," the speaker's somber tone chilled her thoughts, before a cross-looking African-American woman slid into the seat opposite her. With an upturned nose, Monique vaguely counted the number of empty glasses on the table before looking back at her detached friend who hadn't bother to look at her in acknowledgement. "I saw your beat-up Murano outside…"

The red-head continued to stare off into the far distance as she sat in the overly comfortable chair, fingering her drink absently. She tried to keep her mind off things as stole glances across the table at her long time friend. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Aren't you the least bit concerned about how Ron's doing?" Monique pressed on as she slid down onto the bench next to her. "Normally, you'd be grilling me about how he's doing within five seconds."

"Monique…" Kim sighed as she tilted her head back to stare at the ceiling.

"C'mon girl, what's bugging you?" Monique asked, her voice hardening slightly, "After all, this doesn't look like 'work'..." Kim looked sharply at her dark skinned friend, and Monique sighed. "I found out when Ron woke up... The nurse said you got called in... Which is obviously BS..."

"I… I don't think I can see him anymore…" Kim muttered softly, her voice barely carrying over the low key music.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Monique's eyes narrowed. "Did something happen between the two of you before he went into a coma?"

"After you left, before the Wade sitch…" Kim shut her eyes as she spoke. "Ron told me that he wanted me back."

"That's great, isn't it?" Monique exclaimed, barely concealing the sudden happiness in her voice.

"No it's not…" Kim negated lethargically, her voice hollow and cold.

"And why not?" Monique's voice took a dangerously low tone. "Girl, do I have to smack some sense into you too?"

"Things have… Changed between us."

"Yeah, of course! You're both older!" Monique replied sarcastically. And as an afterthought, she added under her breath, "But not in any way wiser…"

Ignoring Monique's remark, Kim sighed as she continued, "I mean… He's not Ron anymore… He's…"

"He's a superstar billionaire playboy? Or a crime-fighting superhero with an invincible suit?"

"Among other things… He's just not Ron anymore…"

"And for your information, you're not Kim anymore either," Monique bit back, barely concealing the venom in her voice. "Have you looked at yourself recently, Kim? As much as it pains me to say, you aren't that Kim Possible that Ron fell in love with a long time ago, either. You're no longer that headstrong, sweet and kind-hearted girl who knew how to follow her dreams and never let anyone stop her from what she wants. You're nothing but an over-glorified paper-pusher right now!"

"Monique…"

"Nuh 'uh girl! You don't get to 'Monique…' me anymore… I'm not going to sit down here and listen to whatever scatterbrained ideas you got into your head! Listen to yourself, Kim," Monique snapped back tersely. "Hell, Kim, just try to remember the very first mission you went on. Mr. Paisley needed help and you gave it straight away because _you knew it was the right thing to do_! That's the thing about you, Kim. You've always lived life trusting in yourself to do the right thing! And now, look at you, you're constantly second-guessing yourself over every decision! You keep telling yourself, what if things could have been different, what if you or Ron hadn't done certain things. But face it, Kim… Just face it… This mess is just as much your fault as it is Ron's."

"No it's…"

A sharp look from Monique cut her off in midsentence. "Kim, it's your fault, too. Really. When you broke up with Ron, you literally broke him as a person. He was down so low that even I wasn't sure that he could get back up. But he did… Like he always has… For you, Kim, for you. And let me ask you honestly, Kim, is it that bad to have someone love you that way?"

"He should be doing things for himself, Monique!" Kim snapped after several seconds of silence, "Not for me!"

"He is! He's living his life for you!" Monique began, but a sharp, almost hateful glare from Kim cut her off.

"Oh, so him screwing any woman that opens her legs for him is for me?" Kim accused sharply. "Flaunting all his riches in his face is just for me? He shows me how happy he is with me out of his life for me, Monique?"

"That's not what he's doing and you know it!" Monique snapped back. While she was happy to finally see a little of Kim's old spark in her jade eyes, she had a few things to tell her friend that had been building up for some time. "He's been hurting since you thought it best to break up with him!"

"Yeah, that's why he jumped at the first chance to fully break up with me by sleeping with Tara?" Kim asked, "That video Wade mentioned, Mo? He said that's why he thought David and I were dating, he thought we were having sex in a club, for Christ's sake! From a goddamn video!"

"I know about the video, Kim, Ron told me about it and how to access it..." Monique said softly, earning a snort from Kim.

"Then you know what I'm talking abou-..."

"And if I hadn't been here?" Monique continued, her considering, confused tone stopping Kim's tirade. "Hell, Kim, I _was_ there and I've honestly doubted what I remember after that... The video is that good, Kim..."

"Oh, so you think he had every reason to go out that night and screw Tara..." Kim muttered.

"Don't you _dare_..." Monique said softly, her dangerous tone taking Kim aback slightly. "I may not like the fact that he was in a relationship within a week of you 'officially' breaking up, but give them both a little respect... He actually did just talk to her that night, from his home, on the phone... They didn't even see each other for two days, and then waited almost two weeks to screw!"

"Oh, and I'm supposed to feel better about that?" Kim said sharply, blinking back at tears in her eyes, "He dumps me when we're taking a break over a video, he doesn't even bother trying to talk to me, and..."

"In Ron's defense, Kim," Monique interrupted again, "He did try to call you. I know you were pissed that he walked out of the restaurant so visibly when we were all there eating, but he tried to call you about it..."

Kim opened her mouth to protest Monique's words, but then remembered seeing Ron's number on her phone several times in the next few days after that night. She sighed heavily, continuing in an almost defeated sounding voice. "Fine, maybe he did, but... It wasn't until after he was with Tara... And I..." Kim shook her head as a few tears ran down her cheeks. "I was hurt, Monique... The first message he left on my phone... He said things... About how he felt and it... It _hurts_, Mo... How could I confront him…" She wiped at her eyes, futilely trying to stop the tears. "He sounded like I'd killed him..."

"Well, I can't say anything about that, Kim." Monique said softly, then strengthened her voice. "But I still say it was a stupid idea to 'take a break' in the first place. What were you thinking?" Kim opened her mouth to speak, shocked that Monique sounded so cold after Kim had just opened her heart in such a way, but her friend held up a finger, "Ah, ah, ah, no, Kim... Don't tell me what you've _said_ before, tell me what you were _thinking_..."

Kim paused for a moment, then shook her head slightly. "I... I dunno anymore, Mo..." Kim said softly. "I thought he'd find something else than just me to have in his life... Like I've always said, he can't just live for me..."

"We're back to arguing semantics here, Kim." Kim looked at her sharply, and Monique nodded. "He loves you, still, and other than screwing around with the ladies, he's done everything to show you that he has more than just you in his life." Monique sighed, then continued softly. "But he doesn't just want that, he wants you... Kim, you have a guy who actually means it when he says that he'll die for you!"

"I don't want him to do something stupid like that! It's just so like Ron to throw himself into the most dangerous situation without giving it a second thought!" Kim cried, "And if he saw me in trouble, he was even more reckless…"

"Girl… That's true love. If you don't understand it yet, you never will…" Monique sighed as she shook her head. "And you're one to talk yourself…"

"What did I do?"

"Didn't I just see you get into my car and drive it against a five-ton mechanical armor with enough weapons to wipe out a Global Justice squad?"

"But that's different… I… That's… Your car has airbags, and I had a seatbelt-..."

"Kim, that's suicidal… No, no…" Monique quickly hushed the protesting red-head. "It's suicidal… Really… You honestly thought that you could come out alive from that? If Wade had seen you just a half second earlier, he'd have had his guns on you…" Kim stared at her askance, and Monique growled slightly, "What I'm trying to say is that you'd do the same for Ron too. You would dive recklessly into the face of danger just to rescue him…"

"But I knew what I was doing! I've done things like that before and it was no big!"

"So has Ron!" Monique almost exploded at her stubborn friend. "Don't you think that Ron has risked life and limb often times enough for you to actually know what he was doing? Stop being hypocritical!" Kim folded her arms and turned back to the dance floor, a petulant scowl coming over her face. Monique slapped the tabletop to get the red-head's attention back, her voice hot with frustration. "So it's alright for you to risk your life to save Ron's, but it's not alright for Ron to risk his life to save you? Girl, as much as I hate to say it, that's insulting, selfish and childish as Hell!"

Kim's jaw felt open as she struggled to move her tongue. "But… I'm not…"

"Girl, it's double standards..." Monique said with a bark of derisive laughter, "Ron may have been a klutz once, but he's a klutz who's done as much as you in the hero business, and has every bit the ability you do, and you know it… Denial ain't just a river in Egypt…"

With a loud sigh, she slumped her shoulders as she leaned back against the park bench and tilted her eyes to the ceiling. Speaking softly, she began, "Maybe you're right, Monique…"

"Damn straight girl, you know I'm always right…"

A wry smile crept to her lips. "Fine, you're right… But it doesn't change anything here… I think it's too late already."

"Kim," Monique held her hand firmly as she spoke. "Stop thinking for a moment. Just stop. Forget everything Ron has ever done to you, and forget everything that you've ever done for Ron. Now just listen to me and answer me truthfully, can you ever imagine your life without Ron?"

"I… I can't…" Kim bit her lip as she slipped into deep thought. And just before Monique can launch into her triumphant speech, she added in a soft voice, "Which is why I'm leaving for Paris…"

"What?" Monique almost shrieked out. "Girl, you're seriously holding back on me, and you're just lucky you didn't tell me sooner, because I would have smacked so much sense back into you that you'd find yourself back into last week."

"I… I just… I mentioned the offer I was given last week to Ron when I saw him... I... He said maybe I should go..." Kim offered weakly as she strained a smile.

"Kim, listen to me," Monique spoke, as she shut her eyes and took a deep breath. "As your best friend, and yes, I've been your best friend since high school, even after you dumped Ron, I am about to do what I regretted not doing all those years ago. I am going to stop you from making the second biggest and dumbest mistake in your entire life."

"It's not a mistake, Monique," Kim replied sounding unconvinced. "I have to go…"

"And why's that?" Monique snapped.

"Because… It hurts too much to be around him…"

Monique stared at the red-haired woman for a long second. Her head was tilted down as her chin touched her chest in remorse. Shaking her head slowly, she placed a hand on Kim's shoulder and spoke, "I'm sorry, Kim, sometimes I forget how emotional you get when we're talking about Ron." With a loud sigh, she continued, "But I don't think that's your solution. You're over-analyzing things like you always have ever since you broke up with Ron. Let me just ask you this, Kim: Does it hurt because you are around Ron? Or does it hurt because you are not _with_ Ron?"

Kim raised her head as she looked at her friend in confusion. "I don't…"

"Shh… Kim… Just listen to your heart…" Monique coaxed her gently. "Listen to it… It has never led you wrong before… Kim, you always shine the best and the brightest when you listen to your heart. It has brought you this far."

"I… Monique... I can't..."

"So just listen to your heart, maybe even for this one last time, even if you disagree with me," Monique interrupted her, reaching a hand across the table to lay on Kim's shoulder. "What is it that your heart wants you to do?"

"I can't… It's … I _can't_ do it…" Kim cried out as she struggled to pull away.

"No, wait, listen to me… It's not easy, I know, and you're afraid of being hurt," Monique began, as she tried to quell Kim's fears. "It's the same with Ron too…"

"No… Ron… Ron? Really?" Kim looked at Monique with a fragile, shaken hope for several long seconds. Monique smiled encouragingly, but Kim squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head in disbelief. "Monique... It's not that easy to believe, after everythi..."

"Yes, Ron, he's afraid of being hurt too…" Monique continued slowly, gently interrupting her friend of well over a decade. "But I think he's willing to risk it all for you… He laid his heart out on the line for you again, didn't he? And to put it frankly, you both have been dancing around each other for so long that it's time to put a stop to it. It's not fair to Ron, it's not fair to you, and it's also not fair to others too…"

Kim raised an eyebrow at that last remark. "You mean…"

"Whatever the case," Monique ignored her question. "You already know you can't live without him. So you know what you have to do…"

"It's not that easy, Monique, what if…"

"There you go again, second guessing yourself."

"I just don't know, Monique! I just can't rush headlong into another relationship!" Kim cried out. "I want to but… It might all be the same again! We'll end up breaking up again and things will become worse this time around. It's just… I don't know if I can take it this time around if we break up!"

"And if you went back to him, are you planning to break up with him again?" Monique's tone was deathly serious.

"No… But…"

"So you're planning to get back together and crush his heart all over again?"

"Monique… You know that's not what I mean…"

"Then what do you mean? Do you mean to continue hurting Ron at your own expense?"

"No, no, no…" Kim swallowed hard as she tried to rearrange her own thoughts. With her head hung low, she muttered. "It's just that…" Looking around the club, she let out a long drawn-out sigh. "I'm sorry, Monique… I've already decided. I'm going to Paris, and nothing you say can change my mind."

"Kim…"

"Please, Monique? I just want to get out of here…" Kim tried to stand up, only to slam her leg harshly against the table, sloshing her drink around. Guiltily, she murmured, "Sorry, 'Nique… Think I need a lift home…"

The mocha-skinned girl glared at her best friend for life for a long moment, before snatching the keys out of her hand. Wordlessly, she slid out of her own chair and stomp off, not even caring whether Kim could find her own way out of the club. She'd already known where Kim parked her car; just a block away down the street. She'd seen it trying to find the recalcitrant red-head.

Even before Kim could properly put on her seatbelt, Monique stomped down on the accelerator and Kim's old Nissan Murano, the first car she had bought with Ron when they were still together leaped forward. Had Monique been any less competent a driver, they'd have slammed headlong into the oncoming traffic. The red-head could only squeak in fright, before buckling in. She glanced over at her friend's face which seemed so hard and cold as she focused on weaving through the traffic ahead.

"Monique…" Kim called to her softly, knowing that her friend was more than angry with her. "Monique…"

She only responded by speeding up faster, swerving dangerously though traffic.

"Monique… Could you slow down?" Kim sighed softly, as she glanced nervously at the traffic surrounding them. "Look… You're probably mad at me… But I know I'm doing the right thing for both of us…" She squeezed her eyes shut as Monique narrowly avoided clipping the car in front of them as she suddenly cut back onto the right lane. "I'm doing the right thing, aren't I?" Kim mumbled almost in a whisper.

"I mean…" Kim choked back a little, as she went on. "It's best for both of us… I mean, Ron and me… I get to visit Paris, see the world and live in Europe like I'd always wanted since college… And Ron will have me out of his life… And he can do whatever else he likes without worrying about what I would think… He can keep on fighting crime as Iron Man… And he can… He can keep on dating all those beautiful women and…" Kim's voice fell silent as she glanced over at her stoic friend. "It'll all be fine, right?"

Suddenly she was thrown forth, and the only thing stopping her face from hitting the dashboard was the seatbelt that dug painfully into her flesh. Startled, she looked up to see Monique slamming her fist angrily on the horn and yelling a long string of expletives out the car window at the crawling red Chevy who had suddenly jammed its brakes in front of them. And even though she'd heard some of the more colorful language during her training sessions at GJ, the things that Monique manage to creatively conjure up made her blush even more.

Finally, slumping back into her seat, Monique growled angrily as she gripped her steering wheel tightly, "What the hell are you asking me that for?"

"I… I wanted to know what you think…"

"Was this before or after you decided to go to Paris?"

"I…" Kim hung her head in shame. "Look… I'm sorry about th-…"

"Dammit Kim! Quit saying you're sorry," Monique took her eyes off the road just for a moment to give Kim a very pissed-off look. "It's the same thing all over again, you know. Just like how you decided to break up with Ron all on your own, and you didn't even stop to ask your friends, the people around you who cared, what do they think? So maybe for a moment that I'm just not important enough to include in your own god-damn delusions, but dammit, Kim… What about Ron? Isn't he important enough for you to talk to about this? Or maybe you just think that you're always right and that no one else matters… You know what, Kim? You make me sick…"

"I did it for us, okay?" Kim retorted, raising her voice. "And I'm still doing it for us!"

"Keep telling yourself that, Kim!" Monique yelled back just as loudly. "Where is that 'us' right now, Kim? Where is that 'us' that you did it for? You just got up and walked away because you grew tired of Ron, you didn't know how to handle his immaturity, you didn't like his lazy ways, and most importantly, you had enough of him. That's why you got up and left him! It's not because you loved him and tried to motivate him, you just got sick and tired of Ron, and you threw him aside like a used tampon and you're just throwing him aside again!"

"That's not true…"

"Oh yeah? That's what it looks like... The way you're acting, Kim, you just as well face it: you don't love him at all! I honestly wonder if you loved him in the first place, or if you've ever even given half a shit about him! All you do is hurt him and blame him for all your own pain and suffering. You're glad, I think... Deep down inside you're _glad_ that you get to walk away and dump all this blame on Ron… At the end of the day, Kim, you're nothing but a quitter… In fact, I think Ron would be better off not know how much you _didn't_ love him…"

"You're wrong!" Kim screamed back, as she clutched her ears, unbelieving what her friend was saying. "You're wrong, you're wrong! It's not like that; it's nothing like that… I love him! I love him more than anything else in this whole god damned world, and I wanted him to succeed more than anything else, and I wanted him to be the best he could be because I love him and I don't ever want him to regret being with me… I love him, okay… Monique… I've always loved him…"

A silence draped over the car, except occasionally punctuated by soft sobs. Neither one said a word for the next five miles.

"So…" Monique declared suddenly in a calm, but firm tone. "Now that we've got that established, then when are you going to tell him?"

"No!" Kim shouted frantically, before letting her voice fall to a soft whimper. "No… I can't ever… No… I can't tell him… Not after everything… Not after… This…"

"Well, you better figure something out then…" Monique pursed her lips thinly. "Because we're here…"

"What?" Kim's eyes opened wide as she glanced out the window and realized that they were parked just outside the hospital where Ron stayed at. "No, Monique! Why'd you bring me here?"

"Because you're going to tell Ron everything you've told me tonight."

"No…" Kim paled at the thought of facing Ron. "I can't…"

"Kim," Monique spoke her name sternly. "You are going to get out of this car, go upstairs and tell Ron _everything_ that you've just told me. And maybe you think he's not important enough to help you decide whether you should go to Paris and maybe you think he's not important enough to _know_ that you love him, then at least go up there and tell him goodbye."

Kim looked ashamedly at her best friend before reaching for her seatbelt buckle and pressing the release button. Wordlessly, she pulled the door handle and unsteadily stepped out of the car. Taking a few steps towards the brightly lit lobby of the hospital, she suddenly whirled around and tapped the window. "Look, Monique…" Kim stammered. "Maybe if I just call him…"

"Go!"

Kim took a few cautious steps towards the lobby before turning around with a pained expression on her face which Monique only duly ignored. Finally, with a heaving sigh and drooping shoulders, she walked gingerly towards the automatic doors that slid apart silently, before she stepped in.

Monique sat back and waited, before she reached over and fiddled with the radio. She tilted her head back and just... Waited… Waited for something to happen. She peeked out through the windshield and spied Ron's VIP room on the eighth floor. The lights were still on, Monique noted.

_At least nothing's flying out the window._

She had done as much as she could for the both of them and they were still this stupid around each other. Maybe love really brings out the worst in them. They were so dumb at times that it seemed that at least they'd deserve each other.

Monique patiently drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. As the dashboard clock ticked past 11:11P.M., the light in Ron's room went out. A small, hopeful smile crept to her face, but she still waited. Visiting hours were long over, and Kim could come walking out any moment.

"Still no Kim..." She muttered to herself as the clock hit 11:30 P.M. Her smile widened slightly, then turned into a full blown grin. Whipping out her pocket organizer, Monique tore out a page and crumpled it with a look of satisfaction on her face. If she was right, her boss would definitely be taking the rest of the week off.

At least.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

A Noobfish/kgs-wy Production

Directed by  
NoobFish

Co-directed by  
Kgs-wy

Screenplay by  
NoobFish and kgs-wy

Starring

Ron Stoppable

as  
Tony St...

Okay, enough crap with the fake credits. Now you have to read about me making excuses about why this was late. This went through a major rewrite. Okay, semi-major rewrite. So that took up excess time, especially by the time we got to this chapter. So yeah… I'd beg off with a lot of other excuses, but you probably wouldn't believe me, thinking that I got stoned somewhere in some apartment or drinking myself into a stupor being a homeless bum for the past two months.

Anyway, that aside, I decided this would be a nice ending, as it sort of looks at Kim and Ron's relationship through Monique's eyes, instead of the typical Kim/Ron drama. But it's still drama nonetheless, so it's a bit mushy too, and I apologize for that.

I seem to be apologizing for a lot.

And thus, the story's finished, and onwards ho! Honest...! Finished... Anyway, to the next story! Suggestions much appreciated.


	12. Epilogue

Ron Stoppable had more than enough reason to consider himself the luckiest man alive.

He had barely survived a lethal corporate takeover by one of his most trusted friends, Wade Load, had his lifeline, the crucial arc reactor stolen, which prevented slivers of metal from tearing his heart tissue apart. And he'd fought back against a five-ton steel behemoth, piloted by said former friend. All in the same night.

But he'd recovered quickly, barely spending a week in the hospital, under the caring watch of his best friend and once ex, but once again his girlfriend. _Girlfriend_... Ron mused thoughtfully as he sat in the corporate board room of Stoppable Enterprises. Leaning back in his high backed, simply designed leather executive chair, he felt a strange tinge of regret at the way his life had turned out.

"Hey, Ron," a cross voice called, interrupting his thoughts, "Quit spacing out here. You have a press conference in ten minutes, and this is the first time the public would get the 'official' account of what happened last week."

"Right, right," he muttered with an almost dismissive wave of his hand. "Accident with a drone, Drew and I got hurt when a lab assistant accidentally input the wrong power level and caused the drone to go nuts. And on an unrelated note, Wade's plane was found earlier this week after it crashed when he was coming back from his vacation…"

"Ronald Stoppable!" Monique Potts yelled out from her seat across the boardroom table from him, her tone sharp and biting. Ron winced and glanced over at her before flashing her an apologetic smile. Shaking her head with annoyance and a hint of disgust at the last time he had used that smile on her, she hardened her voice, "Nuh, uh, I'm not some floozy that's gonna break down and forgive you with that boyish charm of yours, Ron. And you really should pay more attention to what Kim's saying, it's important!"

The brown-skinned beauty glanced at the red-head who was sitting in another of the chair that angled towards Ron. Kim had left her GJ issue combat boots settled under her chair, her simple cotton socks stuffed absently into the shafts of her boots while her feet were propped up across Ron's lap. The blond, despite his flippant air, was massaging the proffered feet with an indulgent air. "I don't know how you put up with him!"

"I don't," Kim remarked with a coy smile. "That's why he listens to me."

"Right," Monique rolled her eyes. "Kim, could you convince him to give me two months of paid vacation? I need some time off to go off to Greece and look for a significant other that's not going to up and leave 'cause I have to watch after this big eared buffoon of yours."

Kim let out a little laugh. "Feeling lonely, are we, Mo?"

"Hey, now that my last two friends have finally hooked up," Monique shook her head sadly. "That just leaves poor ol' single me." Turning her head to glare angrily at her boss, she bit out, "It's all your fault anyway, Ron! Being your personal assistant is more than a full time job! And you, Kim," she turned her attention to her best friend. "Now that you two are a couple again, you'd better pull your share of weight and make sure that boy eats right. He's been eating nothing but Nacos for the past week."

"Hey… It helps me think, alright?" Ron protested with a laugh. "It's just been a busy week with all that's been going on."

"Yeah, but now that you've got Dr. Lipsky as your CEO, you should have more time to yourself." Monique cocked her head to the side as she remarked. "You know, I'm just surprised that you're going to appoint Dr. Lipsky as the new CEO now that Wade's gone."

"He's the logical choice," Ron replied with a nonchalant shrug. "Besides, he did save our butts…"

"Yeah... But I would have thought you would have wanted to become CEO of your company again."

"Nah, I just have better things to do," Ron smiled as he turned his gaze towards Kim. "Like catch up with old friends and make up for lost time."

"Right," Kim blushed at the comment. "Anyway, let's go Ron. The press conference is waiting; the media is itching to know what happened last week. Speculation has run _rife_ for the past week about a the rumored experiment gone wrong at the lab complex, after all, and everyone seemed to want to know who the guy in the suit of armor is."

"Iron Man," Ron quipped without hesitation.

"What?" Kim asked.

"That's what the media is calling him," Ron replied smoothly. "Well, technically, it's not iron, rather an alloy of titanium, aluminum, vanadium and…"

"Right, Iron Man," Kim groaned. "Just read the cards. And we do have an addendum here. The reason for this delay in information has been that, quote, '...Stoppable Enterprises was not only waiting for me to recover, but informing Dr. Load's family of their loss... And we've determined that Dr. Drew Lipsky will be taking over as CEO of Stoppable Enterprises'… Got it?"

"Gee, Kim," Ron furrowed his brow. "That's a rather wild story…"

"Not as wild as you being Iron Man," Kim remarked with enough snark in her voice to have made Shego proud.

"Err… Yeah…" Ron grinned sheepishly at her reprimand. "Right… So let's get this show on the road."

Kim and Monique flanked Ron as the trio walked out of his office and waited by the elevators to head down towards the lobby where Stoppable Enterprises was hosting their biggest press conference ever. Stepping in, the trio relaxed slightly, and Ron reached out to grab Kim's hand, his nervousness obvious with the tight squeeze he gave her. She leaned in and whispered into his ear while returning the squeeze, and slowly, the considerable tension in the blond's frame eased.

Monique caught the surreptitious gesture and smiled softly, sighing and shaking her head, giving the two lovebirds a cough as the floor indicator quickly counted down towards the lobby, where the press had gathered. Letting go of Kim's hand, Ron shrugged his suit straight and waited, a serious, professional calm washing over his face.

The moment the elevator doors opened, Ron was immediately showered by bright flashes of light as the ravenous press surged against security and shouted questions at him.

Ignoring the masses before him, he pushed his way through the crowd and made it to the podium where he was to make his announcements. Ron slowly scanned the anticipating crowd. He glanced down at the cue cards in his hands, and then at Kim and Monique standing a little off to the side.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began. Squinting down at the cue cards again, Ron immediately thought again of his past few months.

He'd been captured and tortured, only having to escape by the skin of his teeth using his first prototype Iron Man suit. Then he'd tried to make everything right, by shutting down his weapons division, only to face opposition from his long-time friend and partner, Wade Load, who had decided to betray him. Glancing back at his red-headed friend and girlfriend, Ron allowed himself a little smile. Kim had always managed to do the right thing, and still look damn good doing so.

She was an inspiration to him. She'd saved the world many times over while he watched on. And she was just a regular high school teenager. No fancy gadgets, no superhuman strength. Just the strong desire to help people.

_She still is my hero... My everything..._ _No secret identities, no white lies. Just the genuine article. _

No, Ron was going to give up pretending to be who he wasn't anymore. Drawing in a deep breath, he allowed a small smile curl to his lips. "Ladies and gentlemen," he announced again with flourish, as he crumpled up the cue cards in his hands and dropped them on the floor next to the podium. Kim, who had seen the change in his demeanor, as well as the look in his eyes, groaned softly and put her hand over her eyes, knowing Ron was going to do something completely against all common sense.

"I am Iron Man."

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_The preceding has been a work of fanfiction, and as such, the events depicted herein are fictitious; any similarity to any person living or dead is merely coincidental. However, any resemblance to existing movies and series has been intentional and used without permission for non-profit entertainment purposes only._

**MMIIX, NFKGS Fanfiction Productions**

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The grin on Ron's face seemed to split his face in twain as he walked from his bedroom towards his expansive den. He still had trouble believing it even after a week: he and Kim were back together! Even after his stunt earlier today at the press conference she'd forgiven him, and after a good dinner, dancing, a few light drinks and a very generous back rub…

_We're more than back together! We're back where they were supposed to be: _with_ each other!_

With an unconscious flourish, he opened the refrigerator to his den's wet bar, pulling out two bottles, humming that song he hasn't heard since their junior prom. He poured two glasses two thirds full of orange juice and stood with a considering look at the other bottle, seven hundred and fifty milliliter bottle of Grey Goose vodka.

He turned suddenly as he felt a prickling along the nape of his neck. Though he saw nothing, he called out in a quiet, urgent voice. "Security comp, status?"

The unresponding silence of the state-of-the-art security system immediately set him on edge, as he placed his drink slowly down on the countertop. He slowly scanned the room, unconsciously using the area of his vision between his peripheral and direct lines of sight to take in everything with a slow, smooth turn of his body.

Then he saw what he was looking for, in a darkened, but still somewhat lit area of his living room; the perfect hiding spot, the last place someone would look for an intruder. "C'mon out, I know you're there..." he called out a good natured manner.

"Heh, you've grown some balls, Buffoon..." a vaguely familiar voice sounded, before stepping into the light. "Just a li'l over nine years ago, my voice would've sent you running around in a panic..."

The first thing Ron noticed was the mostly black uniform appeared to be Global Justice standard issue, except for a triangular fold-over flap giving it a double-breasted look, and green piping along the outer edge of the fold over collar and the chest flap. The collar button bore an emblem, a black, screaming eagle rising on a white background, its wings displayed as it looked to its right. There was also lettering around the circumference between the emblem's two outer bands that Ron couldn't quite make out in the dim light of his den. Next to the collar button was an insignia that matched that of the United States army rank of Colonel.

The second thing he noticed were the rather pronounced, perky breasts that pushed the uniform out enticingly. His gaze swept down and then back up the form, appraisingly, but nothing like his normal perusal of the female form.

With a growing sense of familiarity he took in the athletic musculature easily visible underneath the skin tight uniform, the flowing, mid-thigh length raven hair, and finally a beautiful, pale face with a subtle, but noticeable mint colored hue. The final thing he noticed was the bright, emerald green eye that stared at him with a twinkle in its depths, as if a grand cosmic joke had been played, and she was the only one that got it.

"Shego," Ron nodded his head coolly in acknowledgement. Glancing over at the eyepatch that covered her left eye, he mused with mirth. "Hmmm, a Stoppable Enterprises EP-1003, mk II CICNet eyepatch? Guess that means you don't work alone anymore, eh?"

"Glad to see that you still remember me," Shego smirked in a sardonic tone as she appeared unfazed by his observation. Walking towards the couch, she sat down and placed her boots on his coffee table as though she owned the place and picked up the day's newspaper that laid there.

Ron felt a little ire rising at her blatant disrespect. "So what are you doing here?"

Shego grunted noncommittally, as she held up the front page news which had his face plastered in bold print over the front, "Seems that you've stepped up to the big leagues, _Iron Man_."

"Hey, I'm always full of surprises," Ron chuckled, shaking his head as if it was nothing, "So?"

"That's a rather stupid name," Shego smirked. "Iron Man. I-Ron-Man? Ego much, Stoppable?"

"Hey, that's what the press named me," Ron replied defensively.

"So you're saying if they called you Tin-head, you would have gone with it?" Shego raised a knowing eyebrow.

"Dare to be different," Ron said flippantly as he turned his back to her. He absently grabbed an extra glass, pouring orange juice and a healthy couple of fingers into two of the glasses before stoppering the vodka and putting it and the orange juice away. "So what are you doing here, Shego?" Ron finally asked in a cool, dry tone, holding one of the drinks out to Shego.

"Oh, you wound me so," Shego laughed derisively as she waved off his remark, reaching for the screwdriver smoothly. Taking a sip of the drink to regain her composure, she looked seriously at him before speaking, "I'm here for you."

"Why, Shego," Ron's face turned into a leer, as he sat down opposite her. "I never thought you were interested in the Ronman. But too bad for you, I'm a one Kim guy now… No matter what those tabloids say…"

"You're lucky you're more useful to me alive than you are dead," Shego narrowed her eyes. "I'm not interested in what's in your pan-..." she swiveled her eye slightly with yet another surprised arch of an elegant eyebrow, glancing at the far entrance to the room as a voice called out with an exhausted, almost amused tone.

"Good, 'cause I'd have to kick your ass if you did," Kim muttered tiredly, yawning cutely as she stretched, seemingly at ease with Shego's presence in Ron's house. The luxuriant stretch caused her violet camisole to ride up slightly, showing off her toned, muscular stomach and the frilly, matching thong underneath.

"Well, I thought that you'd be worn out judging by all that screaming I heard earlier," Shego quipped, earning a shrug from Kim instead of the rise her comment would have garnered years before.

"So what do you want with Iron Man?" Ron asked cautiously as Kim made her way over and sat down next to him on the loveseat opposite the couch Shego sprawled out in.

Shego gave a smirk before she drew her legs back and leaned forward to eye him carefully. With a conspiratorial tone, she asked, "Do you honestly think you are the only superhero around out there?"

"What do you mean?" Ron asked, his curiosity starting to get the better of him.

"Well, doy," Shego yawned as she kicked back and propped her feet up on Ron's coffee table again. Lighting a finger up with green plasma, she swirled it around just to make her point. "Well…" Shego chuckled out, looking towards the foyer of Ron's home. She smirked and shook her head, "Looks like yet another 'interruption'..." She muttered as Ron and Kim both followed her gaze.

"I hope you don't plan on keeping these two up too late …" Monique warned in a deadpan tone. She set her purse down on a shelf in the foyer before walking towards the den, her gaze sweeping over the three of them to rest sternly on Shego.

"They both have a rather important meeting tomorrow morning , and I don't want to have to spend two hours getting them up just to make it on time!" She stood with her weight on her left leg, that hip cocked out in an almost cocky manner while she rested her arms akimbo as she tilted her head to the side slightly.

Shego stared for a moment, as did Kim and Ron. Monique looked, in a word, stunning. The dress, one she'd recently told Kim about designing for herself, was made of a green fabric that bore several shades of green depending on how the light hit it. It also bore some of satin's shimmer, but in a subdued, elegant fashion, and hung from her frame like fine silk, caressing her curves instead of clinging to her. The dress had a strap going over her left shoulder, and fell in a swooping arc to the underside of her right arm, showing an enticing, if almost coy amount of cleavage.

"What?" Monique asked innocently, drinking in the stares of her two friends and one of the deadliest, not to mention most beautiful, women in the world. She looked down at herself, continuing the coy display, brushing at some imagined blemish on the outfit, and moving her body in a seemingly unconscious, but nonetheless stimulating manner. "Did I spill something on me and miss it?"

"Wow, guess not everything was in the dossier," Shego muttered in a fluster under her breath**.**

Shego quickly glanced at Kim and Ron as the blond spoke to see if they'd heard, then back to Monique. The dark skinned beauty merely smiled at her, her deep chocolate eyes sharp and probing. The mint-hued woman swallowed as unobtrusively as she could and cleared her throat, tearing her emerald eyes off of Monique's to look back at Ron and Kim, attempting to exert some semblance of control of the situation.

"As your boyfriend noticed," Shego raised a curious eyebrow at Kim, before slowly swiveling over to Monique. "I don't work alone anymore. I work for S.H.I.E.L.D., an organization to counter foreign, domestic, and extraterrestrial threats. And as the sister agency to the international agency, Global Justice, it has been decided, as of tonight, to merge both entities into one, under the S.H.I.E.L.D. moniker."

"Really..." Kim said, her tone as sardonic as Shego's was amused. "And why, exactly, does that make you seem so happy?"

"Because, Kimmie!" Shego answered in a faux sweet voice, "It means that I am not only the boss of S.H.I.E.L.D., I'm in charge of GJ... That means I'm your boss and your boss' boss..."

Kim's face took on a look of controlled professionalism, and she muttered in as calm a voice as she could muster, "You will have my resignation letter the first thing tomorrow morning."

"Yes, well..." Shego sighed, her tone becoming both somber and serious at once, but her eyes still sparkled with that unspoken mischief. "Princess, you can't bullshit a bullshitter; I think you'd enjoy working for me anyway. Besides, S.H.I.E.L.D. isn't only interested in you… Or you and your, well, indescribably organizational skills, Muffin." Shego let her eyes linger on the brown-skinned beauty for a moment, before she turned and looked at Ron with an undisguised smirk on her face. "Or just you, I-Ron-man..."

"What does S.H.I.E.L.D. want with me?" Ron asked curiously, "Or us for that matter?"

"Oh you'll see," Shego said with a snigger, then looked at each of the three in turn. "Buffoon… Princess... Muffin... Have you heard of the Avengers Initiative?"

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**Author's Notes**

Okay, I know I said there was a last chapter, but I lied. Yes, I'm a pathological liar. It comes with the writing turf. After all, writing fiction is like lying, right? By the way, I did clue you guys in by not marking it as Complete. But now it is.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this surprise epilogue. This is the end, and that's the honest truth.


End file.
